


Measure in Love

by dawnofthursday



Series: Modern Royalty AU [3]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Building to something, Damen's POV, M/M, Modern Royalty, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-09-10 17:54:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 48,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8926651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawnofthursday/pseuds/dawnofthursday
Summary: Following the public announcement of their relationship, and amid growing tensions between Vere and Akielos, Damen and Laurent fall in love. This is a story told in five parts, through the seasons.





	1. Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, ya'll. I have been working on this for months! It feels good to finally start posting this beast! This would seriously have gone nowhere without [Sara](http://sarabelium.tumblr.com/), who is my beta and my muse and the person I send 23 voice messages to while I'm driving but the ideas are flowing. 
> 
> All chapters are written, and will hopefully be posted regularly over the next couple of weeks. There's even already a sequel in the works. (The sequel, actually, is the original inspiration for all of this.) 
> 
> Go bug Sara, she's in the process of writing two prequels! Come say [hi](http://americancupsofbritishtea.tumblr.com/)!

Damen hurried up the stairs of Laurent's building, his bags bouncing off his side. It had been a few hours since he got off the phone with Laurent before he boarded his plane, and he was eager to see his boyfriend. 

Damen waited approximately three seconds after he knocked before Laurent opened the door and immediately asked, "Did you hear what Guion said today?" He had his phone in his hand, and Damen could see Twitter pulled up.

Damen, who was actually prepared to smile at his boyfriend and wrap him in a hug after not seeing him for three weeks, was momentarily left speechless. "Oh, uhm, what? No. I didn't," Damen replied.

Laurent had already turned from the door and was walking into the living room. He left the door open for Damen, who followed in quickly and shut the door behind him, dropping his bags off on the floor.  

Damen took a quick look around, as this was the first time he had visited Laurent's apartment. It was large and spacious, with an inviting and open living area that connected to a posh kitchen. It was fashionably furnished with walls of neutral colors, intricate designs edging the tops. The apartment was decorated with pieces of art hanging along the walls, and other pieces sitting attractively in various corners. There was a small bookshelf in the living room that held mostly well-worn books on the bottom, and photographs along the upper-shelves. Damen could see pictures of Laurent with his brother at various ages, one of Laurent with his parents, and even a framed picture of the two of them that Damen had uploaded on Instagram when they were in Marlas.

Damen noticed a desk near the bay window off to the right, where many of Laurent's law exam prep books were, as well as other academic texts, including a massive history tome that was open. Laurent sat himself on the couch in front of the television, phone still in hand, adjacent to the impressive window that immediately grabbed Damen's attention as he walked in. Looking out from the twentieth story, Damen could see the glittering city of Arles sprawled out beneath him. In the far distance, with its high peaks and ornamental windows, lay the heart of Vere itself, the palace of the royal family.  

Damen took a quick picture of the view to upload while wondering what Guion could have managed to do in the span of Damen's flight from Ios to Arles.

Guion was a contentious issue as of late. Originally a senator representing moderate views from a region close to Delpha, his nationalistic zeal had increased in the few years he’d been in office. He was now running his reelection campaign on a platform of Vere-first principles and ideas, rejecting many of the ideas he originally championed.

Guion believed that Delpha had been stolen from Vere, and it was demeaning and humiliating for Vere to be in a treaty with Akielos. He proposed and advocated for Vere to go to war with Akielos in order to regain Delpha as a purely Veretian territory, and to reunite the "old country," as he said. He was particularly known for his disparaging remarks about Akielons, whom he considered to be descendants of animalistic, violent barbarians, who were corrupting sophisticated Veretian culture with their simplistic, idyllic ways.

Damen wasn't sure why Laurent was so concerned, since these ideas also made their rounds with legislators in both countries. But Laurent was especially worried about Guion’s influence and the support he was garnering, and was known for his public disapproval of Guion.

Laurent's attention was completely captured by the television now, and Damen felt a twinge of aggravation. Laurent had more open textbooks scattered on top of his coffee table, and his laptop was open on the seat next to him.

"--and Senator Guion has said he will not apologize for his remarks against Prince Kastor of Akielos," the newscaster reported.

"Oh," Damen said, with a sigh. He understood, but still wanted to just turn the television off and kiss Laurent until he was distracted.

Laurent looked at him, his lips a thin line, his eyes sharp.

"He's still just one person," Damen said, moving Laurent's laptop to rest on top of his textbooks. He sat next to him on the couch.

Laurent was already shaking his head. "Perhaps if he _were_ just one man, but as Senator he represents a great deal more. He was elected into office on a platform of moderation, but now he is gaining traction, promoting his type of hyper-nationalism. Enough people in his district at the border either agree with him, or don't find his remarks outrageous enough to find him ineligible, and the preliminary polls are showing him winning his reelection campaign.

Laurent continued, as if these thoughts had been churning in his head for quite some time, and he was waiting for the opportunity to have someone listen to him. No doubt, Damen would find many of these same sentiments expressed on Laurent's Twitter. "It's also worrying how so many political commentators in my country find his rhetoric a joke. Instead of scolding him for the things he's saying against Akielos, they're inviting him onto their talk shows for a good laugh. He isn't being challenged, he's being placated. So while the media are having a good laugh, they're giving Guion free publicity and eventually more of the common people are going to start listening."

It looked like Laurent had gotten out all he wanted to initially say, so Damen gently grabbed Laurent's shoulders to make him face him. "People are challenging him. Laurent, Akielos and Vere have had prosperity and peace for over 200 years, and Delpha is the perfect example of how our countries can work together. The culture in Delpha is uniquely its own. For two generations now, those people have lived under dual citizenship. Many of them are his constituents and Guion is pissing them off, not inspiring them."

Laurent didn't look convinced, and shifted his eyes back to the television, where more commentary was going on regarding the incident.

Damen continued, trying to keep Laurent's attention, "In any case, Kastor's parentage is old news. Nobody really cares anymore. I mean, it's rude, but it doesn't deserve this kind of worry. Guion isn't likely to be reelected."

Laurent still looked like his mind was racing with thoughts and various outcomes, as if Guion's nationalism was an equation and Laurent was attempting to figure out all the influential variables. At least, though, he leaned back to rest against Damen's side. Damen felt the tension slowly, conscientiously, leave the prince's body as Damen wrapped his arms around Laurent, finally.

Laurent reached to cut the television off and set his phone on the coffee table before resting fully against Damen.

"I missed you," he quietly admitted, after several minutes. "I'd rather not spend your entire visit talking about politics.

Damen felt his heart flutter, and a smile formed uncontrollably. He kissed the top of Laurent's head, feeling the soft strands against his lips and cheeks. "I've missed you, too."

Laurent turned and they kissed briefly. Then he stood up and headed into the kitchen. "Tell me about your flight while I get dinner ready."

Following him, Damen said, "Oh, you are actually cooking for me? I thought you were just saying that to try and impress me, and we'd end up getting take-out"

Laurent smirked over his shoulder. "Do you need me to impress you? And am I hearing correctly? Are you trying to insinuate I'm a poor cook? I'll have you know, Veretians are lauded worldwide as great chefs."

-

It had been four glorious months. Damen was still in awe that he got to call himself ‘Laurent's boyfriend,’ because that's what they were to each other, and that they were finally publically and officially dating now. The media couldn't get enough of them, naturally obsessed with their relationship. It was weeks since the renewal of the treaty at Marlas, and the pictures taken of them together were still circulating the news and gossip rags—as well as speculations.

Many people were flabbergasted: private, enigmatic, and brilliant Laurent, dating the promiscuous, outgoing, playboy Damen?

But Damen had found himself drawn to Laurent since the younger prince was nineteen; it seemed the knowledge that Laurent was ‘of age’ suddenly opened a previously shut door. Damen had been visiting Arles for some diplomatic meeting between the nations' royals, like he had done hundreds of times. He had been hanging near Auguste, who was hanging near Laurent, when Auguste made some disparaging remark against one of the other Veretian statesman. Laurent's face lit up with quiet laughter and he returned with a thorny comment of his own.

Damen remembered feeling like the floor fell from beneath his feet, but he hadn't minded—it was like an ocean wave he hadn't seen coming crashed into him and Damen allowed himself to be swept out to sea. Damen had the insane, instant and consuming urge to do whatever it took to keep the easy expression of laughter on Laurent's face. Damen could reflect now and knew that that was when he fell in love.

But it had taken Damen awhile to process those feelings at first. He’d never enjoyed being tied down, had preferred going easily from person to person, promising nothing and offering no commitments other than a fantastic night together. He could count on two fingers the number of actual relationships he'd had that lasted longer than two months. Damen quickly realized that wasn't going to happen with Laurent, as that wasn't how the Prince of Vere operated. At first Damen was disappointed, but eventually came to realize Damen wanted his relationship with Laurent to be different.

It took a long time for Damen to prove to Laurent—due to Damen's off-putting reputation—that he was true in his intentions to gain Laurent’s interest.  But Damen relished in the challenge. He went above and beyond to engage in centuries’ old rules of courtship that he knew Laurent secretly loved. It took eight months after Laurent's life-changing laugh before Laurent would allow Damen to take him out on a private date. They had quickly proved to be a good match, challenging and entertaining each other in equal measure. It was during that first date that Laurent admitted, somewhat reluctantly, that he'd been interested in Damen since Laurent was seventeen, but needed Damen to prove himself, since he didn't enter into relationships lightly.

Even now, as Damen indulged in a proper embrace from Laurent, it made it easier to ignore some of the untruthful speculations that had sprang up after the public announcement of their relationship. Some in Akielos were wary of Laurent, a foreign prince who mostly kept himself out of the public eye and had ensnared their Crown Prince for potentially nefarious reasons, and had the audacity to make Prince Damianos work so hard in the courtship. But Damen was determined to show them that they had nothing to worry about. His love for Laurent was genuine, and Laurent only made him happier. He tightened his hold around the slender blonde in his arms.

He was about to say something when Laurent moved back just enough to put his hands on Damen's face and brought him forward until their lips touched.

This wasn't like the kiss earlier; there was heat to this one that Damen instantly felt, and returned. Laurent's mouth opened beneath his as their tongues met, and Damen moved one hand to press firmly against the back of Laurent's head, changing so the angle was deeper. His other hand slid down Laurent's back, eagerly wanting to shape his hand around his ass, but not knowing if that would cross a line.

Laurent bit Damen's lip, just enough to sting, before pulling back. Damen could feel his quickened pulse. Laurent's hands now rested against Damen's chest, his blue eyes bright as they met Damen's. "I want to move this to the bedroom," he said.

Damen forcefully stopped his roaming thoughts, and nodded. "Lead the way."

Laurent ran his hands through his hair—a nervous tick—and headed toward his bedroom door.

Damen was actually feeling nervous himself, and made himself take deep breaths inconspicuously. He didn't know what Laurent was intending to do once they were inside the bedroom, except that Damen really didn't want to fuck it up. Damen made himself take note of Laurent's bedroom, the high four-poster bed and the rich cream color of his curtains, the dark wood of his armoire, the sliding doors that led to a balcony, and the reading chair in the corner beside a lamp.

Laurent turned to look at him once they were both inside, and he was standing straight with a determined face.

Damen had made it very clear from the beginning that Laurent would make all the rules for how the sexual aspect of their relationship progressed, but for the first time, Damen wondered if that was too much pressure to place on someone so inexperienced.

"I want to keep kissing you, except on the bed," Laurent said firmly.

Damen replied honestly, "Anything you want," and reached for him.

They were kissing again, except they were doing it while still standing, but Damen didn't spare that much thought. Laurent's lips were soft, addicting, equal measures of passive and assertive. Damen could never get enough.

Laurent was the one who gently began pushing him back, until Damen hit the end of the bed and sat down, with Laurent standing between his legs.

Damen was hard, but it was ignorable. They hadn't done anything beyond heavy kissing and petting yet, but he wasn't in a particular rush. Every new opportunity Laurent granted him, whether it was the touch of lips or simply stories from his childhood, felt like a gift.

Then he was pushed a little harder, and maneuvered until he was lying on his back with his head on the pillows, and Laurent crawled over him. Damen's hands instinctively went to Laurent's waist.

"I know you've thought about this," Laurent said, looking down at him, his blonde hair falling over his face like a curtain around his head. "Tell me what you've thought about."

"Just you," Damen said. "Bringing you pleasure. Me being the one to make you feel good--" He stopped, swallowed, and felt himself unconsciously lick his lip. He was liking the view. "I really want to make you feel good."

Laurent moved his hands slowly down Damen's chest, until his fingers teased the hem of his University of Ios tee-shirt.

"Take it off," Laurent said, his voice soft but commanding.

Damen moved to immediately comply, not ashamed of his nude chest and the few scars he had from adventures during his childhood, mostly from playing various sports with Kastor.

Laurent's eyes lidded as they scanned him, his touch light, almost reverent. Damen kept his hands on Laurent's waist, above his shirt.

"See something you like?" Damen teased, to disrupt the silence.

Laurent smirked. "Yes. I like having you on your back."

"Kiss me?"

With no hesitation, Laurent leaned down and brought his lips to Damen's. They were hard, close-mouthed kisses, until Laurent quickly leaned away, and pulled his shirt over his head. He threw it on the floor next to the bed, and then just as quickly leaned back down to continue kissing Damen.

The new expanse of skin that Damen had just been given access to had him eagerly deepening their kiss, as he ran his hands across Laurent's back, running his fingers down the grooves of his spine. Their bare chests pressing together was hot; exhilarating. Damen could feel Laurent move against him, his hips starting to rub against Damen's.

Laurent was hard, and so was Damen, and still Laurent kept moving.

"Do you want to stop?" Damen asked, pulling back.

"No," Laurent said, pushing forward.

"Do you want to come in your pants?" Damen asked against Laurent's lips, breathless.

Laurent rested an elbow next to Damen's head, and his thrusts against Damen became hard and deliberate. "What else do you have in mind?"

Damen's hand moved to the top of Laurent's pants. He looked at him. "Can I?"

Laurent nodded. Damen undid the button on Laurent's pants, pulled the zipper down and reached inside until his hand firmly grasped Laurent's cock.

Almost uncontrollably, unexpectedly, Laurent gasped. His eyes shut tightly, and he thrust into Damen's hand.

This was the first time anyone besides Laurent himself touched him like this. That knowledge was heady, and Damen felt a possessiveness move inside of him—a dark desire to make sure nobody except Damen ever touched Laurent like this again.

The angle was off, though. He withdrew his hand and Laurent opened his eyes in confusion.

"Here," Damen said, "Let's move back against the headboard."

Laurent followed until he sat in Damen's lap facing Damen, his legs stretched wide around Damen hips, with Damen leaning back against the bed.

When Laurent nodded, Damen moved his hand between Laurent's thighs and reached back into Laurent's underwear to take hold of him. Laurent pushed his briefs down so his cock sprang free and then he licked his lips, his eyes lidding over, as if in awe of the sight: Damen's large, dark hand moving on his pale cock, his leaky tip being squeezed between Damen's fist. Damen looked down, too, briefly, but found he much preferred looking at Laurent's face, and his expressions of pleasure.

Laurent was also making these quiet, breathy moans that were driving Damen up a wall.

He loved looking at Laurent like this, his emotions clear on his face, his eyes shut as he let his body be pleasured by Damen, as his breath hitched on every upstroke when Damen thumbed his tip. All of it, every expression—his movements, his pleasure—was because of Damen. Damen had brought him to this state. His pale skin was reddened, and Damen could see that his blush went all the way down to his sharp collarbones. Damen longed to bite them, to leave marks against his skin, to leave proof that he had been there.

"You are so beautiful," Damen said, almost against his will. "I can’t stop looking at you."

His other hand rubbed Laurent's back, not able to get enough of touching him.

Laurent met Damen's eyes, and his hands moved toward Damen's pants. "Join me," he said. "You can bring us both off, can't you?" Damen could tell it was meant to be a challenge, but his voice was too shaky to pull off the tone.

"Is that what you want?" Damen asked, his hand still.

"Yes."

Damen undid his pants, squirming a little to bring them down until his throbbing cock, which he had ignored until now, was no longer confined inside his jeans.

Damen watched Laurent as his lover looked at Damen's cock. He was larger and wider than Laurent was. Laurent licked his lips, and reached out to touch him softly, and Damen's stomach muscles tensed as pleasure like lightning flashed through him. Laurent's touch become firmer, more confident, and Damen bit his lip to hold back an embarrassing moan. He was still looking at Laurent's face, to make sure no discomfort showed, that this was really what Laurent wanted and not what he thought Damen needed.

But Laurent scooted closer to Damen, still on his lap, and brought their cocks together in his grip. Their gasps were twinned, as their eyes met. Their lips crashed together as if they couldn’t help it, and Damen's hand joined Laurent's.

This was a pleasure Damen had never felt before, despite being something so simple. The intimacy of being this close to Laurent was almost too much; the trust that Laurent conceded over to Damen felt so fragile and needed to be treated tenderly. Laurent was normally poised and controlled, every expression suppressed. Damen felt the true weight of what he’d been given, his allowance to see Laurent so open and expressive, unfiltered and trusting.

Their lips fell apart, but Laurent bumped his head against Damen's as their hands started moving faster. Strands of Laurent's longer hair brushed against Damen's face, and Damen took turns looking at the open bliss on Laurent's face and their hands moving in unison over their cocks.  Laurent started moving his hips again, simple thrusts that had their cocks rubbing together. Damen moved his free hand to the low of Laurent's back, as he started thrusting up to match Laurent's movements.

Damen wasn't going to last, but it didn't look like Laurent was either. They were beyond thinking, blindly seeking pleasure, release.

Laurent came first, with a shout, and his spill helped Damen's hand move faster. Laurent moved just enough away, his cock too sensitive for more simulation, and it became just Damen holding himself as his hand continued.

When Damen came, he opened his eyes and found Laurent looking at him, almost stunned.

A little self-consciously, Damen asked, "What?"

This was new ground for them.

But Laurent shook his head, a small smile on his lips. "I just really liked watching you come."

"Was it good?" Damen asked, instead of answering. Laurent knew what he was referring to.

Laurent almost looked shy, which was absurd. His now soft cock was still hanging outside of his pants, and his spunk was all over Damen's hand. And cock, for that matter.

"Yes," Laurent answered. "It was adequate." But he was grinning.

Damen felt a goofy smile appear, and could only say stupidly in return, "Good."

-

Akielos had their own fall festivals this time of year, the largest one being the Harvest Festival last week that celebrated the farmers of Akielos but Damen felt that they all paled in comparison to the value Veretians placed on All Hallows' Eve. Not only was it a time for Veretians to celebrate their dead, it served as the unofficial Veretian start to winter; a celebration of changing seasons.

This was the first year Damen would be participating in the festivities with the Veretian royal family. As a teenager, Damen went to Vere during this time of year with his friend Nikandros, chaperoned discreetly by Damen's guard. He remembered the delicious smells and treats from the farmer's market, and being warmed by hot apple cider. He remembered how cold it felt, and had wondered if it was going to snow soon, and how glad he was that it never snowed in Ios. Damen had tried to impress a local girl with his pumpkin carving skills, and when he found out her family was selling pumpkin-flavored goods at the market, indulged in everything until he was sick, while Nikandros laughed at him. He actually hadn't eaten pumpkin since. They attended unofficially, and it had been easy as they became nameless, unimportant teenagers in the crowd.

It was very different celebrating the day with the royal family, and Damen hoped at some point Laurent had enjoyed the festival as a normal, nameless child. Together they: attended several local farmer’s markets to celebrate the annual harvest; announced the winners of competitions for the best pie, the largest pumpkin, the spiciest chili; and visited the royal tombs to pay homage to past Veretian Kings and Queens. Always throughout, there were cameras and crew and reporters recording their every action.

The day was to be concluded with a feast gathering all the community leaders around the country, and then finished off with the world-famous All Hallows’ Eve Ball. Elites from all four countries eagerly awaited their invitation every year, and although Damen had always received an invitation, this was the first year he'd be attending.

The tradition of the All Hallows' Eve Ball started centuries ago as a Masquerade Ball. The young King of Vere, renowned for his beauty and cleverness, was being pursued by an older man, the second Prince of Patras. The Patran Prince was said to be unrelenting and determined to gain favor with the King of Vere, and sent him many gifts, including the best horses, soldiers for his battles against the Akielons, and countless books of romantic poetry, as well as precious artwork. The King of Vere, however, was not interested in the Prince of Patras's affections, and took the gifts for his own use without returning them or gifting the Prince with his own presents. Eventually the Prince grew desperate, and the King came up with an idea. That year for All Hallows' Eve, the King held a Masquerade Ball in Arles, and told the Prince that if, by the end of the night, he could capture the King, the King would have him and return his affections. The Prince accepted. The King, however, being clever, ensured he'd never be caught, and changed his costume multiple times throughout the night. The Prince, who ended the night with the wrong person, left dejected and did not try again. All the other King's suitors fell to this same ploy, year after year. It continued even as the King’s niece ascended to the throne, and held the Masquerade Ball in her uncle's honor. Over the years, the Masquerade Ball fell out of favor, as it led to many scandals and opened the possibility for the creation of bastards, and instead Vere settled on a simple Costume Ball.

When Damen and Laurent had been together at Marlas, Laurent had recorded Damen's measurements and answered Damen's many questions with a simple raised eyebrow and one reply, "You better be coming to All Hallows' Eve this year." Damen still didn't know what Laurent was up to, but had his suspicions that it had something to do with the Ball. When Damen asked if he should bring some sort of costume, Laurent told him it was being taken care of.

Now Damen was in a set of dressing rooms at the palace, staring at the costume Laurent had custom-tailored for him, with Laurent looking cautiously from the doorway, awaiting his reaction.

"And what will you being wearing?" Damen asked, in lieu of a real response.

Wordlessly, Laurent pulled his costume out from where it was hanging, and held it up to himself.

"Subtle," Damen remarked.

Laurent just smirked.

-

The royal family was the last to enter into the ballroom, after all the other guests had arrived. A late arrival meant no entrance, for no guest was to enter after the royal family did. All of Vere's minor royalty were already present inside, talking with many of the other esteemed guests, including a cousin of the King of Patras.

Damen and Laurent, in their full costumes, met Laurent's family in an adjoining foyer to the ballroom, and Damen could hear that the party was in full swing, a cacophony of voices streaming in through the thick wooden door. Damen took in the costumes of the others in the room. King Aleron and Queen Hennike were dressed attractively in Veretian-style military garb, specifically the uniforms used when Vere had command of the seas, with blue on white trimming.

Auguste and his guest to the Ball, Princess Aloisa of the Vaskian Empire, were dressed as a wood nymph and Mother Gaia, respectively. Aloisa looked rather comfortable dressed in greens and browns, looking like a goddess, while Auguste just looked at her with a silly expression.

"She chose the costume," Auguste said, in response to Laurent's raised eyebrow. Auguste's make-up was impressive, his pale skin covered by a rich teal paint.

"Were you going for a political statement?" Laurent asked Aloisa, who just shrugged nonchalantly.

"Hardly," she said. "Unless caring for the environment is a political statement. Which, I suppose, to _some_ Veretians, it is."

"Not that it would matter to you, as you are not Veretian," Laurent countered.

Aloisa shrugged again, but gave a look that seemed to say, _for now_. Auguste still had a silly look on his face, and it made Damen wonder if that's how he looked at Laurent. Damen had heard Auguste was giving his attentions to a Daughter of the Empire, and he was happy for his friend that those rumors were true.

"No, Senator Guion is known for stirring trouble, but he won't be able to get away with his assault on the environment. It does, after all, hold implications for everyone," Queen Hennike said, interjecting smoothly into their conversation. "We certainly wouldn't want to disturb our relations with Vask by beginning to cut down the trees. No, I think the real conversation is the two of you." She was looking at Laurent and Damen with a small smirk.

Damen was hardly uncomfortable around royalty, but he felt so now. "Uh… Laurent chose our costumes," he said slowly, mirroring Auguste's words from earlier.

King Aleron looked over at them, both eyebrows raised. "And you called Auguste and Aloisa's costume political?"

"Oh, I'm not denying it's a political statement," Laurent replied.

Damen turned his head to look at him in mild shock.

Laurent was standing in front of him wearing a short, classic Akielon chiton wrapped around one shoulder with high sandals. The edges were trimmed in a simple blue design, and it matched his eyes. In his hair were golden laurels that blended in with his hair, except the laurels were a deeper gold, and glittered in the light. Uncharacteristically, he was showing all of his arms and most of his legs, his skin smooth and white; unblemished. He was an absolute dream, and Damen was having a hard time keeping his eyes and hands off of him. He had to keep reminding himself that Laurent's parents and overprotective older brother were standing in the room with him. It was a bad time to start thinking about how the fabric of the chiton would bunch up if Damen ran his hands up Laurent's thighs.

Thankfully, he supposed, he was in incredibly constricting clothes. Damen was dressed in perfectly tailored Veretian clothes that harkened back to a time centuries ago. It was dark blue, almost to the point of being black, and sparsely decorated, with only a light gold trim around the edges, almost unnoticeable. The shirt and pants covered the expanse of his body, with long sleeves that laced intricately at the ends. It took a historical costume specialist to do the laces up the back earlier. Damen didn't even want to know how Laurent had gotten this made for his dimensions.

Laurent looked at him as if he were acting deliberately obtuse. "Damen, what else could this be?" 

"An appreciation of each other’s historical cultures?" Damen said, which was what he'd been thinking. Laurent was in a chiton, so he hadn't complained, or thought of any deeper meaning to their dress.

In fact, Damen was thinking up ways to make sure Laurent dressed only in chitons from here on out. He thought foolishly of trying to pass a law that required visiting Veretians to pay respect to Akielon culture by dressing in chitons, and then selectively apply it only to Laurent when he was in his apartments. Maybe he could take the chiton back with him to Ios, so when Laurent visited, he could casually suggest he put it on.

A loud cough disrupted his thoughts, and he realized he had zoned out while staring at Laurent, who now had an attractive blush coloring his face. Laurent gave him a look that he supposed was meant to be chastising, but ended up being a shy smile. It was Auguste who had coughed. King Aleron had his arms crossed and was looking away uncomfortably.

"Uhm, I was thinking about Vereti--" he started.

"Don’t," Laurent interrupted, rolling his eyes and turning back to the room. "Is it time for us to enter, or are we going to awkwardly stand about some more?"

The ballroom at the palace in Arles wasn't used that often anymore, which made it all the more impressive when it was. A grand room with a domed ceiling, Damen felt small when he walked inside. The intricate ornamentation was typical Veretian style, hinting back at an earlier time when Kings still ruled the land. The room had hints of gold throughout, as it lined all the panels in the walls and the decorated columns. Even the walls held detail, painting the pictures of many Veretian stories.

It was almost giving Damen a headache, if he focused too long, being more used to the sparse Akielon decor. It was rather fortunate for him that he had something far more interesting and beautiful to pay attention to.

Laurent looked ever more beautiful under the lights and attention. They were the first to step out, followed by the Crown Prince and his Princess, and finally, the King and Queen. Laurent had his arm hooked into his. Damen only gave brief attention to the people standing around them, knew only that it was several hundred, for he was unable to look away from the sight and beauty that was his boyfriend.

As was customary, they walked right into the center of the ballroom and took up their positions. Certain traditions are cultivated and protected, and the Royal Family having first dance at the All Hallows' Eve Ball was one of them.

That was another thing Laurent had said to Damen at Marlas. "Be sure you know how to ballroom dance in the Veretian-style." Damen had initially panicked, but began taking lessons, and knew to place one hand around Laurent's waist and hold Laurent’s hand with the other. Laurent had his free hand placed on his shoulder. It helped that they had practiced together under soft-lighting in Laurent's apartment the night before.

Unlike the previous night, they were keeping a respectable distance now.

The music queued up, and they began dancing.

After a few moments where no one's toes were stepped on, Laurent said, "You're better than I expected. I thought for sure by now we'd have to switch for me to lead."

Damen laughed slightly. "That is still not a bad idea." Every move of his was based on conscious, focused thought, not like the effortless movements of Laurent.

Their dancing was somewhat stilted but their movements managed to remain smooth and in sync. In a half step, Laurent moved closer, and Damen's hand came to rest lower on his back.

"You're going to get me in trouble, you know," Damen said lightly, not minding the risk.

"You made my father very uncomfortable in there, staring at me like you wanted to eat me."

Damen was about to apologize, but Laurent continued, "Thank you for that. I live to make him uncomfortable with our relationship, ever since my mother told me he didn’t have a clue I was gay until photos of our first date surfaced online, two months after the fact."

"Perhaps he simply wanted to believe you were asexual," Damen suggested. “All fathers want to believe their children will stay innocent forever.”

Laurent hummed, noncommittal.

Their dancing stayed clean and succinct, but they were very close now. Laurent had moved their clasped hands so they rested over Damen's heart. He looked up at Damen with bright eyes, an expression of such contented happiness on his face. Damen eagerly, greedily, soaked it up so he could remember this moment forever.

"You look beautiful," Damen said.

Laurent flushed. "You don't look too bad yourself."

"You think Veretian clothing suits me?"

Laurent laughed. "Definitely not."

"You, on the other hand… the laurels, especially," Damen continued. His eyes ran over them as they rested comfortably on Laurent's golden head.

Laurent was still grinning. "Well, they should, naturally. That's where my name comes from, after all."

Damen didn't know that.

Laurent head was resting on Damen's chest, to hide the blush that had spread. "Actually, my name is in reference to the place where laurel trees come from. Either way, it is apparent that I was doomed from the start."

Damen squeezed the hand still resting against his chest, and couldn't help but place a soft kiss on Laurent's head. It wasn't enough to express the full-bodied happiness that had swelled in him at those words. Their bodies were moving to the dance, effortless now for the both of them.

Damen had completely forgotten that there was a crowd watching them, or in fact that anyone else was in the room, until he heard light clapping. The first dance was over, and new couples were entering the dance floor.

"Dance with me again?" Damen asked.

"Always," Laurent said. 


	2. Winter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing feelings is hard, ya'll. And Damen has a lot of them this chapter.

It was the day before Damen was to leave for Arles to attend the week-long Veretian winter celebrations, leading to one of the most important holidays in Vere: the birth of Simone, Vere's first Queen.  He found himself spending the evening at the King’s personal wing at the palace in Ios, dining in one of the simpler sitting rooms with his father, brother, and Jokaste.

Kastor was currently telling their father and Jokaste about his latest court case, gesturing with grandiose. As the Justice of Ios, Kastor held the most influential position in the provincial judicial system in Akielos—not a small feat for a man of only thirty-six years. Few dared to accuse Kastor of gaining his position through nepotism, as he had clawed his way past the lower court circuits with ambition after graduating from the top law school in the country, to earn his elected position. Kastor’s career goal, Damen knew, was to become a Supreme Justice in the Akielos Appellate Court, the highest court of the land.

  _I don’t need to be King, Damen. I will carve my own name into history, without needing to be given it to me on a silver plate. I will prove to Father that I am just as great as his 'trueborn', and I can serve Akielos in my own way. You may be the face of the government, but I will_ be _the government_ , an inebriated Kastor had once disclosed to his concerned younger brother. Damen, in his idealistic youth, had dismissed it as a drunk man’s loose tongue, but now that he was older and wiser, realized it to be more truthful than anything else his older brother had ever said to him.

These dinners, not nearly as often or consistent as their father would have preferred, had become a tug-of-war for them, both Damen and Kastor trying to claim their father’s full attention: Kastor retelling court rulings, Damen relating their country’s international relations.

Damen zoned out his brothers words, and made himself stamp down the smile that threatened to erupt on his face at the thought of traveling to Vere tomorrow. This time, Laurent would be meeting him at the airport, and as much as he tried not to, he couldn't help but imagine all the ways they could greet each other. This trip was made all the better because Laurent was out of school for winter break.

As international liaison, and therefore the official face of the Akielon royal family, it was his duty to travel to such events, and he had recently returned from a similar celebration in Patras. Sometimes it was tiring, as he was constantly traveling the four kingdoms, or forced to play nice when royal guests attended Akielon festivities, but he relished the trips to Vere. He had actually petitioned for this position last spring so he would have greater opportunities to visit Vere, for reasons obvious to everyone. It helped that Damen knew friendly faces in all the nations. Damen had been informed that Prince Torveld would be in attendance as a representative for Patras, and Princess Aloisa for Vask.

His past trips to Arles during winter had always been brief and short, and he was excited for this longer opportunity to play in the snow and enjoy the cold weather. Even now, in the heart of winter, it was only brisk in Ios, and he simply needed a jacket to remain warm. Laurent, who was used to colder climates, wouldn't need a jacket at all with the current temperatures, if he were in Ios. Damen had to specially buy a winter coat for his trip, and perhaps went overboard with the multitude of scarves, hats, gloves, and snow boots he had purchased.

He was looking forward to making snow angels and snowmen, maybe even an igloo. He wondered if he could incite a snowball fight with Auguste, and if Laurent would be on his team, and what snow tasted like fresh from the sky. International affairs always felt less formal and stuffy when Damen was with Laurent and Auguste.  He wondered how Laurent would look with snowflakes hanging from his eyelashes, his checks flushed from the cold, and if he would snuggle close for warmth. He heard that Laurent was a fair ice skater, and wondered if he'd get a chance to see for himself.

"Brother, are you paying attention?"

Kastor knocked him out of his reverie, a scowl on his face. Damen looked around the circular, wooden table, noting his brother and Father’s annoyed faces; Jokaste's familiar smirk.

It was complicated with Jokaste, to say the least. She was the last person Damen dated before he realized he was serious about pursuing Laurent, and couldn’t have someone on the side while he did that. Jokaste had perhaps expected commitment from Damen, and was upset when he broke off their relationship. Damen always assumed she had moved on to Kastor as a way to get back at him, but it had been at least a year, and they were still together. She had recently completed her final year of law school and was beginning her career working for the Department of Justice. In retrospect, with both of their political ambitions, perhaps she was a better match with Kastor.

It meant a lot that she was invited to dine here in Theomedes’ presence for a simple family dinner. Even when she dated Damen, he had introduced her to all the elites and minor royals while she hung off his arm during formal events, but he had never brought her to the palace. When she first met Theomedes, it was at a charity ball. It meant commitment to present a lover to Theomedes at their home and domain—akin to bringing a lover home to the parents. Perhaps this meant Kastor was serious about his relationship.

"Sorry, Kastor. I was wondering if I had packed my winter coat," Damen said.

"Well, if you're done daydreaming about Vere, Jokaste and I have an announcement," he snapped impatiently, making Damen wonder how long his brother had been trying to get his attention. Kastor actually puffed out his chest and looked at their father with a serious expression.

Theomedes, who had been taking a drink of Akielon mead, turned his head sharply to look at Kastor, and then Jokaste.

Were they getting married, Damen wondered. How ambitious of Jokaste, as the daughter of a relatively unimportant political representative from Aegina. Damen always knew Jokaste was clever and had plans for upward social mobility. It was what made their month and a half together so interesting. Damen hadn't minded Jokaste using him to introduce herself to various politicians and other leaders of the country, but Damen also knew he hadn’t been sleeping with her for her ambition.

"Father," Kastor started, after a deep breath, a smile growing on his face. He took Jokaste's hand on top of the table, and they looked at each other. "We're expecting."

Damen blinked. What? How _very_ ambitious of Jokaste.

"Oh, son, that's fantastic!" Theomedes declared, clear joy in his face. He even clapped his hands. "At least one of my sons is serious about his duty to continue our royal line." He didn't even have the courtesy to look at Damen as he said it, his focus entirely on Kastor and Jokaste.

Kastor sent a smug look to Damen. Maybe a year ago, Damen would have been hurt by this, but he had grown a lot since then, and was beginning to see Kastor's true, jealous colors.

"Kastor, congratulations," Damen said graciously. "That is fantastic news. When are you due, Jokaste?" His voice was level, polite.

"Late summer, next year," Jokaste replied, glowing under the attention. Her other hand was resting against her still flat stomach.

"This is exactly what Akielos needs right now," Theomedes said, who still had not looked at Damen. "Something to rouse up excitement and support for our nation. You have my full support during your pregnancy. If there is anything you need and is within my powers, I will grant for you."

Jokaste preened under Theomedes' approval.

Theomedes turned to Damen, and judging by the look on his face, Damen wished he'd go back to ignoring him. "Damianos," Theomedes said with thin lips, his voice stern and dark eyes glaring. "When are you going to end this foolish game you have going on with that Veretian boy and get serious?"

This was exactly what Kastor wanted, purposely calling them all together to announce his impending fatherhood; it had nothing to do with Damen being family, and everything to do with this—a scolding from their father where Kastor was praised as the better son while Damen was reminded that he continued to disappoint. Damen was surprised Kastor hadn't invited more people to witness the spectacle.

Theomedes continued when Damen stayed silent. “I never minded you messing around with boys while you were growing up, but it isn't becoming for you to look as if you're going to settle down with one. You are the Crown Prince of Akielos, my trueborn." Bet Kastor loved that, Damen thought a little viciously. "How will you continue our line with that boy and fulfill your duty to your country?"

Damen clenched his jaw and realized his fists had tightened under the table. He made himself take a deep breath to try and release the tension that had built up in his body. This was not the first time his father had expressed such opinions to him, but they had always been private conversations. It felt more public now, in front of his brother and Jokaste, his ex-girlfriend. Damen's face heated with a mixture of embarrassment, frustration, and anger over his own incompetence at being unable to make his father understand.

"This is not a good time for you to be involved with a Veretian, son," Theomedes carried on, his voice softening as if he were giving his son difficult, but needed advice. "Our relations are deteriorating, and of all the blondes, you choose the one with an army behind him? One wrong move in your relationship with him, and there could be much backlash. You are both in the public eye and the entire world is watching. I know you had fun with him when he was studying here last year, but it's time for you to get serious, Damianos."

Deteriorating relations, Damen repeated in his head. Who had been ill-informing his Father? There were always small squabbles between Vere and Akielos, particularly over the co-ruling of Delpha, but he had been at the most recent renewal of the Treaty of Marlas. Damen knew he tended towards the oblivious sometimes, but his father was clearly extrapolating.

"Father," Kastor cut in, voice sweet as honeyed poison, "Is this really the time to discuss this? Damen knows what he needs to do, and we should be celebrating."

Damen cut him a sharp look of annoyance. He didn’t need Kastor’s false support, but he couldn’t leave the conversation without addressing his father on the most important part of his diatribe. "Our relations with Vere are stable. Father, if you have heard anything suggesting otherwise, then it is ludicrous. I am the international liaison for Akielos. If there was trouble brewing on our borders, do you truly think I would put aside my duty to the country and not inform you first?” Damen’s eye were sharp, his words heated.

“So you’re saying you will put our country before your relationship?” Theomedes’ words were sharp. Jokaste and Kastor stayed quiet, the tension in the room thick and electrifying. There were two loose lions on the prowl, and neither were backing down.

"I’m saying my relationship with Laurent is not a threat to peace. Our nations are as much allies now as we've always been. If you're referring to Senator Guion, he is isolated and alone. Nobody in the four nations takes him seriously, especially in Vere, and we in Akielos shouldn't either. Otherwise we run the risk of enabling and legitimizing him.” Laurent’s voice echoed in Damen’s head, and tried to think of what his lover would say. “You have never entertained the implausible ideas of overzealous politicians before. Our alliances are not some light issue, Father, to be thrown around because you're upset with me."

It was a thin line, attempting to chastise his father and tell him what he should and should not be thinking. But everyone seemed to be taking Guion too seriously; he was a hot-headed joke, nothing more. And perhaps Damen would rather they discuss Guion than any of the other concerns his father had brought up, still not knowing the words to make his father understand the depth of his feelings for the Prince of Vere.

"You mean it would disrupt your plans of getting into the pants of your pretty blonde," Kastor sneered. "Is he still frigid, or have you—"

Leave it to his brother to ensure the conversation didn't stray too far from Damen's failings, instead of allowing them to discuss important international matters.

Damen felt anger dangerously strike through him at Kastor's words, and he stood up, his fists clenched on top of the table. Kastor always pushed him to edge, and one day he was going to take the leap. "Who I _think_ you mean is the Prince of Vere, who is graduating with three degrees in only three years, is fluent in four languages, and could beat even _you_ at sword-fighting." Kastor opened his mouth to rebuke, but Damen wasn’t in the mood to indulge him. He faced his father, who he could tell was deeply upset with him.

"My relationship with Laurent is not up for discussion, not now and not ever," he said heatedly, his voiced raised. "You may as well start accepting him. We can discuss the remaining international matters when I return from Vere. Congratulations again, brother, Jokaste, on your pregnancy. I'm going to finish packing."

As he stormed out of the rooms and out of the palace, back to his apartments, the anger slowly seeped from him. He realized his outburst in defense of Laurent had not gone so smoothly. This would not be the end of it, not by a long shot. Damen hoped he could prove his feelings for Laurent to his Father and that he would eventually accept the relationship. He knew this could happen—Theomedes just needed more time, to interact with Laurent, and see how happy Laurent made him.

Besides that glaring problem, though, it made him uneasy that his father was responding so strongly to Guion. He wondered how many more were beginning to form similar thoughts in Akielos.

-

Damen, having sat in first class, was one of the first off the plane, and practically jogged through the terminal—special advantage of being an ambassador was breezing through customs—until he spotted the shining beacon that was Laurent's long, blonde hair.

Laurent stood a little away from his security guards and smiled as he caught sight of him. He opened his mouth for what Damen assumed was going to be a greeting but before the words could exit his mouth, Damen stood close in front of Laurent and asked, "Can I kiss you?"

Laurent, with his mouth still open, was startled by the forwardness of his question, but  quickly schooled his features. He gave a quick glance to the people who were gathering around them. They were hardly inconspicuous.

Good, Damen thought, as he saw many of them pull out their cellphones, and heard whispers of their names in the growing crowd. He wanted this everywhere, on every news channel and social media site.

"Have something to prove?" Laurent asked smoothly, his eyes moving back to meet Damen's, his voice low and private.

"Yes," Damen answered.

Instead of replying, Laurent wrapped a hand around Damen's head, winding his fingers in Damen's dark curls, and dragging his head down to meet his lips. Damen dropped his bags and wrapped his arms around Laurent's body, lifting him effortlessly and kissing him deeply. Laurent responded by wrapping his arms around Damen's neck, and kissing back.

As much as he intended for this to be a show to his father and those who doubted his affections for Laurent, he still ended up losing sense of everyone else around them. In that moment, nothing else existed except for the lithe man in his arms, and their lips moving together.

"As much as I'd love to keep this going, giving our audience even more of a show, we are on a schedule today," Laurent said against his lips.

Damen groaned softly in disappointment, but put Laurent down.

Laurent made a show of smoothing down his rumpled clothes. Damen smiled at him. Laurent had a slight blush on his face, and it was pleasant to look at. If only Damen could stay forever in Vere.

One of Laurent's security guards picked up Damen's bags.

"Come on," Laurent said. Damen took his hand as they began walking out of the airport. Some of the women who had watched their interaction giggled and blushed as they walked by. "I’m taking you to the Palace, Torveld is already there. Auguste is coming here later to pick up Aloisa. Also—" Laurent's voice dropped, and he pulled his phone out to show Damen.

Damen saw the news report pulled up. It was the official announcement of Kastor and Jokaste’s pregnancy, released by the Akielos Correspondence Office. They had been quick to share the news, Damen thought darkly. Something for Akielos to rally around, Theomedes had said. Because Theomedes did not approve of Damen’s choosing of a Veretian Prince. Damen only wondered how many more in his country thought the same.

"I don't suppose this has anything to do with the show we put on back there?" Laurent whispered.

"I can't just pick up my boyfriend and kiss him stupid in the middle of a public airport?" Damen countered, but they both knew. Theomedes had declared his support for Kastor, and Damen had answered it with a very public message of his own.

Laurent gave him a look, but didn’t press any further.

-

_BREAKING NEWS: AKIELOS' CROWN PRINCE DAMIANOS CAUGHT SMOOCHING PRINCE LAURENT IN ARLES INTERNATIONAL_

-

Winter in Vere was frigid and cold, which is why Damen assumed they put all the best holidays during this season, in an attempt to cheer everyone up. The Birth of Simone was a weeklong celebration, full of endless festivals and traditions, with drinking, dancing, and gift-giving. Each day was meant to celebrate the important people in one's life: friends, extended relatives, neighbors, siblings, parents, and lovers. The last day of the week was always a dual celebration commemorating the Veretian royal family, and the birth of the first Queen of Vere, the monarch every Veretian-born royal could trace their lineage back to.

The birth of Simone was in actuality an unflattering story to an Akielon, because at its heart, is a story of Veretian independence from Akielos. Long ago, Vere and Akielos were ruled as one kingdom, the Artesian Empire. For centuries, the north and south regions of Artes lived in peace and harmony. The Artesian Empire was led by a Council of men and women who were elected every five years, leaders coming from every region in the land. Over the years, each region developed their own dialects, cultures, and ways of life, but those differences, mostly born from geography, did not dampen the Artesian sense of unity, and all Artesians saw themselves as one people.

The downfall of the Artesian Empire came when the Council, composed mainly of leaders from Southern Artes, moved the capital city from the center to the southern city known now as Ios. Northern Artes noted the change in the seat of power and began consolidating its own strength, growing wary when the next Council remained a majority of southern Artesians.

Over the next century, as the Veretians told it, the concerns of Northern Artes were ignored, such that during times of famine and natural disasters aid was not provided. Local governors loyal to the south were appointed positions of power over the peasants living in the north. Although a system of slavery existed throughout Artes, governors began abusing their power, taking free peasants as slaves and mistreating them.

Simone was born in the latter half of the century, although her background is heavily debated. Some historians say she was born to a wealthy, merchant family, while other scholars insist she was the daughter of humble, peasant carpenters. Despite her beginnings, Simon became a savior to Northern Artes and founded the Kingdom of Vere by rebelling against the Artesian Empire.

From an early age, Simone saw the injustice surrounding her and created a name for herself as the Liberator. She smuggled slaves from the local castles and led them to freedom. In her early twenties, she petitioned the local lord for better wages, and when that proved ineffective, led a quick and powerful rebellion against him and burned down his fort. After taking control of her own province of Belloy, Simone incited a full-fledged revolution. She led fighters to the other provinces, claiming fort after fort, and tore down the flags of the Artesian Empire. Slowly but surely Simone freed the North, ended slavery there, seized the middle, and declared the Kingdom of Vere free from Southern Artes. Simone was crowned as the first Veretian Queen.

The rest, as they say, is history. The Artesian Empire eventually became the Kingdom of Akielos, and Akielos and Vere, after existing as one country for so long, fought continually for the next five hundred years, the middle region of Delpha switching hands every couple of decades. That is, until two hundred years ago, when Vere and Akielos entered a historical treaty denoting Delpha as a unified territory under joint rule, to the relief of the citizens who were tired of changing citizenship and official language every other generation, or so.

Damen knew that the Veretian Independence put a bitter taste in mouths of some Akielons—but history is written by the victors. Some Akielon historians cited that Northern Artes had been conniving and ungrateful, slapping the hand that fed them, and killed many southerners in their fight for independence. Radical loyalists insisted that the move of the capital was because Northern Artes had become corrupt and it was merely an attempt to salvage the Empire from the clutches of the North.

For decades the celebration of the Birth of Simone was considered a Veretian holiday that carried anti-Akielon sentiments and royals from Akielos rejected invitations to the event year after year, if one was even extended. But despite their feuding history, in the present day, it is now just a celebration of the Veretian royal family and an excuse for the two nations to lightheartedly tease each other.

Damen was looking forward to it; to the contrasting symbolism of standing proud next to Laurent as he celebrated Veretian Independence. As the representative of Akielos, Damen hoped his presence would further extend the symbol of friendship between the two nations.

These were his thoughts as he spent the first night of the Winter Festival in the great hall of the royal palace in Arles, mingling with various other nobility and Veretian statesmen.

Being the face of the Akielon royal family really just meant having your picture taken a lot. There were official pictures of Damen and King Aleron shaking hands; of Damen greeting Crown Prince Auguste with familiarity; of Damen giving a more appropriate, chaste kiss to Prince Laurent; of hugging Queen Hennike; of him greeting both Prince Torveld and Princess Aloisa.

Due to the recent announcement of Kastor and Jokaste's pregnancy, there was a lot of congratulating going around that Damen privately wanted nothing to do with, his mood still darkened from his brother's smug smirk and his father's harsh words. But duty called—he made himself smile graciously and talk about how excited the royal family was with the news, and of how excited he was to be an uncle. The last part wasn't necessarily untrue, which made it easier to reiterate throughout the night. Damen was just glad nobody from Vere mentioned 'bastards' yet, although that type of talk was gradually fading out of favor.

Tradition dictated that the royal family end the night addressing the Veretian people from the palace. They were dressed for that moment, in beautiful, expensive, Veretian-style clothing detailed with complicated laces and buttons. Damen couldn't take his eyes off Laurent as he made his way around the room, charming everyone he spoke with. There was a small braid in his nearly shoulder-length hair, tied back to not distract from his aristocratic features and high cheekbones. He wore his gold circlet around his head which announced his status, and his clothes were dark and form-fitting. Damen longed to be walking around with him, speaking to other royals and government officials, their arms laced together.  

"Enjoying the view?"

Damen startled, not having heard anyone draw near him. Uncharacteristically, he had been standing alone against the wall of the grand room, away from the main pulse of the event. He turned towards the voice, and saw that it was Queen Hennike. She approached him, looking stunning in a dark blue and gold gown, her crown glittering and regal atop elegantly braided blonde hair. There was a small smile on her face that reminded Damen of Laurent.

There was no denying what he had been doing. Damen gave a slight bow, to be appropriate, but his eyes moved almost unbidden back across the room to Laurent, where he was speaking to Prince Torveld.

"He is the most beautiful person in any room he stands in," Damen admitted.

Queen Hennike hummed, in thought. Damen dragged his eyes back to look at her. "I think a lot of us were surprised with the two of you. Of all the princes I thought Laurent would entertain, you were far, far down on the list." She chuckled slightly. "I was very worried when I first heard news that my youngest son had given in to your courtship and was accepting your affections.” She paused. “He was all the way in Ios, and we all knew your reputation, especially with blondes." Queen Hennike's green eyes sharpened.

Damen had the decency to break eye-contact, his face darkening with embarrassment. Damen had officially come before both King Aleron and Queen Hennike to declare his intentions with Laurent in early summer, right after a picture Damen uploaded on Instagram inadvertently ended up outing their burgeoning relationship to the public. He had been rather selfishly relieved when they became public, and had never given much thought to how Laurent's parents felt about them except that, with Laurent standing in front of them with his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed, both of his parents had formally accepted their relationship.

It appeared the Queen had many thoughts on her mind, and had only now been given the opportunity to share them with Damen. "It did ease me a little when Auguste mentioned he had spoken with you, and approved. And then I saw the two of you at the Costume Ball. If I had had any doubts about your feelings towards my baby boy, I don’t anymore.  I've never seen Laurent smile like that to anyone."

Queen Hennike paused, a calculating smile toying on her lips. "I suppose what I am trying to say to you, Prince Damianos, is that not just as the Queen, but as Laurent's mother, I give my approval."

Damen felt warmed by her words, and was insanely, intensely jealous for a brief moment. How could Laurent's family accept him so easily, but his own not do the same for Laurent?

Their eyes met, Queen Hennike's gaze now soft. Damen said, "Your Majesty, I want to assure you that I do care very deeply for Laurent, more than I ever have for anymore. I see myself with no one else. He is in all the ways that matter my equal and complement, my perfect partner, and I strive daily to be the same for him."

Queen Hennike put a hand on his arm, her eyes turned serious. "I know, Damianos. And he'll be upset if he finds out I've said this, but I need to say it. Take care of him. It seems as if those in Akielos are not as approving of your relationship as we are. And we both know where Laurent ends up if this continues."

Damen took her hand and held it firmly, feeling a heavy weight settle into his stomach as he remembered his father's words of just yesterday. "I know," Damen said, "and I promise; you have my word."

She nodded once. "Good," she said, before waltzing away, her charming smile back on her face.

Damen looked around the room to find Laurent again, and found him already staring back, a question in his eyes. Damen just smiled and shook his head.

-

"So how many people do you think know that I'm not staying in my fancy, palace rooms right now?" Damen asked against Laurent's neck.

Laurent had his head thrown back, to provide Damen better access. Damen had recently discovered how sensitive Laurent was here, and was excited by the opportunity to explore this new knowledge to its fullest potential. Could Laurent come like this, rubbing off on Damen's naked torso, with Damen's lips at his neck?

"Oh," Laurent said airily, "I’m sure you were caught sneaking into my apartment building, so… by tomorrow, all four countries."

"I do hope that doesn't make the rest of this week awkward with your family." Damen was thoroughly enjoying the feel of Laurent's pulse, his skin smooth and soft beneath his lips. He took turns between kissing and licking, but knowing better than to bite or suck.

"I'm sitting naked in your lap and you're thinking about my family," Laurent quipped. "Obviously I'm not commanding enough of your attention." He leaned his head down, dislodging Damen's lips from his neck, and kissed him.

As the kiss turned wet and deep, Damen grabbed hold of Laurent's waist and flipped them, so Damen was on top. He slowly lowered his body on top of Laurent's, their chests, thighs, and cocks touching. He broke the kiss to ask, "Is this okay?"

Laurent said, "Yes," and wrapped his legs around Damen, grinding them together, pulling him back down to continue their open-mouth kiss.

"You looked amazing in that three-piece suit tonight," Laurent murmured against his lips. "Who dressed you?"

Damen leaned back just enough to give Laurent a look that signaled he knew exactly what he was doing. He indulged him anyway. "You did."

Laurent grinned. "Oh, that's right." Their lips met again, but Laurent was still talking. "Let's make sure I always dress you for formal occasions."

Anything Damen would have said in return, such as Damen dressing Laurent in chitons, was lost as they both stopped talking and used their tongues in more productive ways. Damen could feel how hard Laurent was against his stomach, and a new thought, enticing, entered Damen's head, something else they hadn't done yet.

"Can I—" Damen started.

"I'm not ready," Laurent interrupted.

Damen leaned back to smirk at Laurent for rushing to conclusions and clarify, but stilled when he saw that Laurent's face had turned an ugly shade of red. Damen realized he was embarrassed, which was the last thing Damen wanted. He scrambled to figure out a way to salvage the moment.

"Laurent—"

Laurent squirmed beneath him, and Damen quickly lifted himself up and away, putting space between them, worried that Laurent was now uncomfortable. He looked really uncomfortable, and Damen wasn't sure what to do.

Laurent drew his legs up against his chest like a shield, his arms wrapped around them. He avoided Damen’s eyes.

Damen really didn't know what to do now. Laurent wasn't looking at him. This had never happened before, this abrupt closing off from Laurent, and Damen felt a sickness move through him.

He got up quietly, and searched for Laurent's shirt. He remembered that earlier in the evening, they had been quick to start making out, and Laurent's shirt was in the hallway outside the bedroom. Damen put his boxers back on, grabbed Laurent's shirt, and then, to give Laurent some more time alone, got two glasses of water from the kitchen. After a few moments of silent panic, with Damen worrying that Laurent wouldn't even want him to come back, he returned to the room with the two cups and the shirt.

Laurent actually looked startled to see him, as if he hadn't been expecting Damen to return.

"I brought you your shirt," Damen said, feeling stupid, large; unwanted. "And water, if you want it."

"I—" Laurent started. "Thank you." He put his shirt back on, and put the cup of water on the bedside table.

Damen held on to his cup to keep his hands occupied. He felt like a cad, and it was the worse feeling. Despite not being sure what initiated it, he had made Laurent feel like this, like Damen was pressuring Laurent into something. Damen had gotten on top of Laurent. The guilt and shame started bubbling up in him. He searched for some way to apologize that didn’t sound trite.

"That wasn't even what you were going to say, was it?" Laurent asked softly. He was looking down at his lap, his long hair falling like a curtain around his face.

And now, instead of Damen taking responsibility and apologizing first, he had stayed quiet for so long that Laurent was taking the lead.

Before Damen could answer, Laurent was continuing. "Sometimes, despite everything I know about you, I feel very insecure around you. I thought, today, about how Jokaste was the last woman you were with, and she's now pregnant with your brother's child. I wonder if a dark part of you, one that you'd never acknowledge, not even to yourself, wishes she was pregnant with your child instead.” Laurent took a deep breathe. “…I think about how I can't do that for you."

"Laurent, I don’t—" Damen cut himself off, not actually sure what he'd say.

But Laurent waved him off. "No, no, I know. These aren't rational thoughts. I know that you know my limitations."

"Laurent, you being male isn't a _limitation_ —"

"And then I can't even give you what I _can_."

It was a mistake not talking about this earlier, Damen thought. He shouldn’t have been so eager to kiss Laurent this evening, and avoid talking about something as serious as this. He had kissed Laurent publically at the airport to make a point. He had used Laurent to make a jab at his father, and he felt ashamed. Laurent had even called him out on it, provided an opening for the conversation that Damen had quickly shut down. He hadn't given any thought as to how Laurent was handling the news.  

"Laurent, I'm sorry," Damen said eventually, after several moments of silence. Laurent still had his face hidden. "I’m sorry for treating you like that at the airport, and I'm sorry for not talking to you about this sooner.” Damen inched closer to Laurent, and carefully sat down on the bed, still keeping some distance away from Laurent. “You must know. I don't care about Jokaste; I don't care about my father, or Kastor. They upset me and I was wrong to let that affect how I treated you. It wasn’t fair to you." Damen had to struggle to keep his voice steady, to refrain from shouting. "I don’t care about anything but you. And I certainly don't want you as anyone but yourself." There was so much more he wanted to say, but didn't know how it would be received.

Laurent, I love you, Damen wanted to say. I know it's only been a few months, but I want to marry you, and wake up next to you every morning. I want to love you and make you feel loved, always. We'll be the best uncles, and I'll never, for a second, wish something from you that you can't provide. I'm sorry I wasn't able to make you feel secure enough so these thoughts never even entered your mind in the first place, much less took root. I'm the one that's not enough for you. I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you.

"Laurent. Please look at me."

It hurt to wait, Damen found. But eventually, Laurent's eyes moved to meet his, and Damen said, the vulnerability and honesty of the words burning like acid in his throat, "If the cost of having children is losing you, I don't care about having children. I knew—I know what our relationship means for me. I'm not waiting for you to let me fuck you before I move on to a woman. This isn't a long-term game I'm playing. I am with you, Laurent. And I have thought through what that means. I’m in this, for the long haul."

And Damen _had_ thought about it, although perhaps only vaguely, but realized now that his words were true, though no less painful. This was why he hadn't been able to effectively counter his father's words, because a part of him still had not, until now, fully reconciled his love for Laurent with this truth: that loving Laurent may mean never having his own chance at fatherhood. But the choice—an out—had been put in front of him by Laurent, who had perhaps sensed Damen's own confliction.

Damen had, without hesitation, chosen Laurent. A weight he hadn't even known he'd been carrying lifted from his shoulders. He had meant what he said.

Laurent began uncurling from his shielded position, putting his legs down. It was then that Damen realized Laurent still wasn’t wearing pants, and Damen was still stupidly holding a cup of water. Laurent's blush was softer and shyer, now, and more of Damen's tension faded away.

Laurent moved to sit on his knees and leaned across the bed to kiss Damen softly on the lips. Their eyes closed, briefly. "You know I'm with you, too. For the long haul. I'm— Jokaste's pregnancy put me in a dark place, and I'm sorry it extended here. I had been feeling… this way all day, and then I put my feelings on you. I know you weren't asking for— that. Earlier. And even if you were, I know you would never..."

"I was actually going to ask if I could blow you," Damen said, eager. It was easier to make himself vulnerable in this way.

Laurent looked shocked again; he hadn't been thinking that, obviously.

"Don't get me wrong," Damen continued. "I can't wait to make love to you, but only when we're both ready. I don't want it if you don't want it."

Laurent was silent for a few beats, serious in thought. Damen knew how useless his words were — how any words he said would be useless, without time to prove them true. Damen wasn't going to wake up one morning, years from now, and feel any type of regret, and truth of that knowledge was euphoric. Damen had a better understanding now of why Laurent had kept him waiting. Damen was the second son of a King, but the Crown Prince nonetheless of a nation, and his relationship with Laurent signaled to his country that he didn't intend to produce an heir. Laurent had known all of this already, probably knew better than Damen the extent of Theomedes' displeasure at their relationship and the wariness Akielons held. If Damen couldn’t prove how serious he was, Laurent would take a step back, leave his arms and fade into the background, to avoid being hurt and humiliated.

Well, Damen thought, everyone else was just going to have to deal with it. He wasn't giving this up.

"Laurent, can I touch you?"

"Yes," Laurent answered.

Damen immediately wrapped his arms around Laurent, who was still kneeling on the bed while Damen sat. From that angle, Damen's head rested against Laurent's chest, and he could hear his racing heartbeat. After a few seconds, Laurent relaxed and put his arms around him. Damen squeezed just a little harder in response.

"I love you," Damen whispered into Laurent's shirt.

Laurent's breath stuttered and he moved back. His eyes were wide and vulnerable. Damen met them and held their gaze. "I love you," Damen said again.

Laurent's face shifted into something Damen almost didn’t recognize, a sort of desperation that Damen didn't understand. Laurent's hands framed Damen's face, and he dragged Damen to him until their lips met, soft. Damen kept his lips passive, only responding to Laurent, letting Laurent set their pace. A few more times their lips met chastely, before the grip on Damen's face got tighter, and their kisses became harder, possessive.

That's exactly what Damen wanted. He wanted Laurent to feel possessive over him. To have him feel greedy and selfish, demanding of Damen. To face a world that didn't approve and snub them with their indifference to what they thought.

I’m yours, Damen thought. Wholly and completely.

Laurent started leaning back against the bed at the same time he gripped Damen's hair tightly. "Do you… still want to—?"

"Yes," Damen said, in answer and in pleasure. "Keep your grip tight, if you want."

Laurent was resting on his elbows, his eyes lidded, and Damen pushed up his shirt to kiss across his chest. Damen was starting to feel possessive himself, as he started licking at one of Laurent's nipples. Laurent's cock twitched against Damen's stomach.

I'm the only one who gets to see you like this, Damen thought. You're the only one who can make me feel like this, like I'm going out of my mind.

Damen gripped the base of Laurent's cock, and Laurent's hand tugged at Damen's hair, almost unconsciously. Damen loved the sharp pricks of pain, and groaned in appreciation.

He licked his lips in anticipation. He had Laurent's pretty cock in front of him, beginning to leak.

"I didn't know you'd be such a tease," Laurent said.

Damen just smirked up at him, meeting his eyes, and licked the tip clean.

Laurent shuddered and gasped, his hips involuntarily thrusting up and he threw his head back. "Sorry—sorry."

Damen didn't even bother to respond, just took Laurent as deep in his mouth as he could and sucked.

Damen loved the feel of Laurent in his mouth, the heavy weight of his cock against his tongue, the taste of his pleasure, the obscene noises his mouth was making as he took in more of Laurent. He loved that Laurent was clearly losing himself to this pleasure, one hand still tightly clutching Damen's hair, the other gripping the bedsheet.

Originally, Damen had intended to draw this out, make it last and tease Laurent, but now he just wanted to take. His head bobbed, using just brief moments to catch his breath before taking Laurent all the way back in again.

Damen was aching in his boxers, getting off on getting Laurent off. As Damen's nose hit the base of Laurent's cock, he stuck a hand inside his shorts and took hold of himself, his other hand resting against Laurent's hip.

"Damen," Laurent said, "Damen, are you—?"

He could only imagine the sight Laurent was seeing right now, and groaned around Laurent's cock, causing Laurent to cry out again.

Damen didn't realize how close he was, but his hand moved faster, in tandem with his mouth.

"I'm—I'm about to—" Laurent said, pulling at Damen's hair.

But Damen wanted all of it.

With a cry, Laurent came in Damen's mouth. Damen swallowed, and moved off so his forehead rested on Laurent's thigh. He was breathing heavily.

Laurent moved so they were facing each other, and he reached for Damen's cock. "Let me," he said. He was still catching his breath.

It didn't take long after that. Laurent's slender fingers moved, by this point, expertly on Damen's cock, and Damen came with a quick, soft shout.

They looked at each other rather goofily for a moment. Or, rather, Damen looked goofily at Laurent, and Laurent gave a smile in return. His face turned contemplative as he looked at his hand, the one covered in Damen's spill. Damen felt his heart beat erratically as Laurent took a tentative lick.

"If you continue, you _will_ kill me," Damen warned.

Laurent just shrugged and bounced off his bed, heading to his bathroom. "You did it." He threw a smirk over his shoulder. "Want to take a shower with me?"

Damen absolutely did.

-

Politely, Damen looked a little guilty at the headline. Auguste was holding up the gossip rag with the words "PRINCE DAMIANOS SKIRTS PALACE DIGS FOR A NIGHT WITH HIS BF, PRINCE LAURENT" on the cover. There was even a paparazzi shot of him walking inside Laurent's building, like Laurent had predicted.

Auguste had a glare on his face as Damen searched for something to say. The glare was tinged with humor, so Damen didn't think he was in that much trouble.

Laurent was already on the ice, skating a few warm-up laps. He skated over to Damen and Auguste at the side of the rink. Taking a quick look at the magazine, he said to his brother, "I thought you learned your lesson about interfering with my love life."

Auguste turned a dark shade of red as Laurent skated away with a laugh on his face. "Don’t—!" Auguste started. "Kings Above, don't mention that. And in any case," he yelled after his brother, "you lied to me!"

"It’s not a lie now!" Laurent shouted back from the other side of the rink, and it echoed in the enclosed space.

Damen had been trying to slowly slip away from Auguste, hands gripping the edges of the rink tightly to pull him along, but Auguste, who was light-years ahead of Damen on ice-skates, crowded him with a real glare this time.

Laurent, who saw, just laughed louder. It was like music to Damen's ears, even if it was at his expense.

Damen was rescued by Princess Aloisa. "Leave them be, Auguste." She stepped into the rink and was also better than Damen at staying on her feet.

Northern countries, Damen thought. It wasn’t that Akielos didn’t have ice-skating; rather, Damen much preferred to spend his time in the sun and waves instead of inside an icy rink.

"And stop teasing your brother, Laurent, before I share stories about Auguste and I."

Laurent and Aloisa started skating near each other. Auguste joined them, touching Aloisa easily at the waist to pull her close to him. Although all three could easily skate farther away, they lingered close to Damen, which he appreciated.

"Please don't," Laurent said pleasantly, with a cutting edge. "I'm rather fond of you, and would prefer it to stay that way." He smiled at her. "Plus, what stories could you possibly tell? Ancient Veretian tradition dictates that my brother not lie with a woman until his first time in front of the Council."

Auguste shuddered. "Can you even imagine if we still did that?"

Aloisa nodded in sympathy. "Those poor women." She smirked, continuing, "In ancient Vask, the bride would tie down her groom and she would take her pleasure from him. They'd give him a drug to ensure he stayed erect for at least a few hours. It was the bride’s decision if the man came that night or not." She smiled sweetly at Auguste.

"I am _very_ glad some traditions died," Auguste says, his face grimacing.

Aloisa broke away from Auguste after a quick kiss and effortlessly skated around Laurent. "Have you heard back from any of the law schools yet?" She gave a small, knowing smile that Damen didn't know how to read. Auguste's eyebrows were also bunched in confusion, Damen noticed.

Laurent responded with a glare, before turning his attentions back to Damen, resolutely ignoring her and her question. Aloisa’s lips quirked into another small smile at his response. Damen slid his eyes back to Laurent when he spoke.

"Not much on skates, are you?"  He smiled, a look of open affection spreading on his face.

"There are a lot of things I'm good at," Damen said. "Ice-skating is apparently not one of them." He had stepped away from the side and was trying to skate on his own, but he was rather top-heavy and was having a hard time finding his balance. He flailed his arms in an attempt to not fall on his ass.

Laurent held his hands out for Damen to take. "I'll teach you."

And so the morning was spent rather pleasantly, skating at a private rink before official festivities began in the evening. Aloisa, with her slightly tanned skin and light-colored hair, was a sight to behold. The way she and Auguste interacted with ease, flirting and smiling at each other, had Damen feeling very happy for his friend. Laurent also appeared to approve, quipping at her effortlessly, and was seemingly impressed with how fast she bit back.

It was an easy morning that was interrupted when four protective guards entered the room.

"Your highnesses," one of them, Jord, said. "Crown Prince Damianos is needed back at the palace immediately."

"What's happened?" Auguste asked sharply, before Damen could. All four of them exited the rink and began removing their skates. 

Damen's heart sank with troubling thoughts. Had something happened to his father? Kastor? Jokaste or her baby?

"There was an incident at the border last night. This morning Senator Guion spoke about the event, and Prince Kastor has returned with heated words."

Damen began walking with Jord out of the rink to where a car was waiting for him.

One thing at a time. "What happened at the border last night?" Damen asked, his voice coming out rougher than he intended.

Jord was not bothered by the agitation and handed him a tablet with the story pulled up. Damen read through it quickly, and was immediately disgusted. He turned to find Laurent directly behind him, and Auguste and Aloisa behind him. Laurent took the tablet from him and began reading.

The four of them got into the car and headed back to the palace at Arles.

According to the report, a young Veretian girl was attacked and sexually assaulted by four Akielon men last night in Delpha. The crime was heinous—Damen would personally exert all the influence he had to  ensure that those men, if they can even be called that, were punished duly.

But of course Guion, already fueled with nationalistic fury and hate towards Akielos, had decided to capitalize on the incident. Guion held a press conference that morning, where he insinuated that this was what happens when Akielons mix with Veretians, except he was much more unfiltered and offensive. He even invoked Queen Simone, claiming acts like this was why Vere separated from Akielos in the first place.

Then, news reported that Prince Justice Kastor had questioned what the young Veretian girl was doing out so late at night.

As if that mattered, Damen thought with a flash of anger. What was Kastor thinking?

Damen flicked through his phone and saw that he had several missed calls: from his father, their public relations director, Pallas, and the most from his close friend Nikandros, the young, elected Akielon leader of Delpha.

Damen would be expected to make an official statement. He needed to call Pallas first.

He looked up from where he had been staring out of the window, in deep thought, and saw that Laurent and Auguste were having a private conversation with just their eyes and facial expressions.

As soon as they exited the car and were inside the palace walls, Laurent said to Auguste, "We have to go talk to father."

"You can't possibly think he did this while locked away." Auguste sounded exasperated.

Damen could only guess at what this conversation was about, and Aloisa looked just as confused.

"I think it is well within the realm of possibility, Auguste," Laurent answered. "We've had our suspicions and we've sat on them, and now a little girl has been hurt. The timing is too neat to be coincidental. He went away for treason, did he not, despite what we've told the public? We know he is cunning enough to plan this and move people around like pawns, making them do his bidding."

Auguste's face showed hesitation at Laurent's words. Laurent narrowed his eyes and Auguste, maybe just slightly, winced. “If that’s not why he’s been put away, then…” Laurent gasped lightly in response, taking a few steps away from his brother in shock. "What have you not told me?" Laurent asked in a hard voice.

Auguste seemed to notice they had an audience. "Not now, Laurent."

"No!" Laurent forcefully grabbed Auguste's hand. "Tell me! I deserve to know!"

Auguste's voice was stern, and a hard look came over his face, one that Damen had never seen him direct at Laurent before. "You are acting like a child right now. There are bigger issues. Damen needs to go speak to his people, and we need to meet with father to figure out what we're going to say. Guion escalated the situation, and Kastor made it worse. Now we have to deal with it. We can sort everything else out later."

Laurent looked like he was about to bolt, and as much as Damen wanted to hold and comfort him, Auguste wasn't wrong. Whatever was going on between the brothers would have to wait.

-

Matters were made even worse when Guion responded to Kastor, insulting his parentage, and then the parentage of his future child, then all Akielons. All it did was firmly establish two opposing camps that hadn't necessarily been there before. Damen watched it happen over the span of the rest of his time in Arles, and felt powerless to do anything to lessen the tensions.

Privately, Damen thought Guion was purely a Veretian problem that the Veretians needed to handle. Nikandros had been echoing these thoughts for months. As Guion garnered support, it was becoming a tangle of conflicting choices. If the Akielons ignored Guion to avoid legitimizing him and continued their rhetoric of peace, then disgruntled citizens would feel as if Guion was getting away with _his_ offensive rhetoric and then begin demanding direct Akielon action against him and Vere. On the other hand, by responding to Guion, not only did they legitimize him, but they then risked starting a movement that could grow into general discontent with Vere, especially if Vere was not seen as appropriately ostracizing Guion for his words and sentiment.

It also didn't help that Damen was beginning to realize he may not have the full picture of what was going on with Guion, that perhaps Auguste was holding back important information even from his own brother.

Damen wanted to keep the peace rhetoric, but he could tell his father wanted to move directly against Guion, especially now that Kastor and his future grandchild had been drawn into the fire. It was even more difficult to keep his focus when Nikandros, Damen's most trusted, unofficial adviser, was also pleading for Damen to publically renounce Guion and demand that Vere hold him responsible for his divisive words. Although royalty no longer had direct influence over the leaders of Akielos, they were still influential in pushing the tide of thoughts the people held, which indirectly had consequences for their elected legislative representatives.

Damen kept his official statement surrounded around peace. He announced, after speaking with Nikandros, that the men would be held to the fullest extent of Delphan law, and reminded everyone that Delpha was jointly ruled, therefore Veretian and Akielon voices would be heard. In response to Kastor’s comment, Kastor was simply attempting to remark, albeit brusquely, that it was imperative to understand the full details of what happened, in order to better ensure for the young girl that justice was dealt swiftly.

In a private conference call with his father and Kastor, his enraged brother explained that the comment had been nothing more than a soundbite, the one inappropriate comment he made off-camera but the media took and ran with, completely ignoring his original interview about maintaining a fair and just trial, in order to add fuel to the fire. The press didn’t care that Kastor had been apologetic about his offhand comment and had personally apologized to the Veretian girl; they had wanted to set a flame ablaze and Kastor had helped them light the match.

What made matters even worse, when the day had finally ended and all statements had been said, was it became clear that Auguste had finally talked to Laurent. And whatever he said to him resulted in Laurent closing off for the rest of the week, from everyone.

When Damen questioned Auguste about it, Auguste just said Laurent was thinking over some family matters, and to not take it personally. Damen wanted to follow up with a question of his own, if there was something Damen needed to know in order to better understand the situation with Guion, and was there something bigger at play here? But he bit his tongue and swallowed his frustration.

For Damen's remaining time in Arles, Laurent didn't say more than twenty words to him, and Damen slept in his rooms at the palace for the rest of his trip, which did not go unnoticed by the media. 

When Damen got home, he saw that his relationship, too, had become fodder for the growing tensions between their nations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Go say hi to my beta [Sara](http://sarabelium.tumblr.com/). This chapter only exists because of her.
> 
> [I'm also nice to talk to.](http://americancupsofbritishtea.tumblr.com/)


	3. Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This sort of became a character study of Damen and explores his anger issues, as well as his relationships with his father and brother. Sorry for that?
> 
> Also: brief mention of Torveld/Erasmus/Kallias

-

Damen was wearing a baseball cap over his hair and nondescript clothes in an attempt to hide himself inside the grungy bar tucked away off the main strip of bright and lively downtown Ios. He had a beer in front of him, but it had warmed unappetizingly, and he wasn't drinking it. The bar was moderately crowded for a random Thursday, full of mostly older adults playing billiards. It was easy for Damen to become another lonely figure at the bar.

It had been two weeks since he left Arles, and Damen still didn't know what was going on with Laurent, and Laurent hadn't contacted him.

At first, Damen gave him space, which he clearly needed, after hearing whatever it was Auguste had told him about their family. But when a week passed with no word from Laurent, Damen sent him a simple text, just asking how he was, and Laurent replied hours later saying he wasn't ready to talk yet.

Damen didn't do with uncertainty; he just didn't. He hated leaving things unsettled and would always much rather plow straight through a situation until the conflict was resolved. He abhorred the uneasy feeling in his gut that now seemed a permanent fixture. He hated how he woke up every morning and the feeling would settle in again when there were no new messages from Laurent, or how he _still_ jumped in anticipation when his phone buzzed, or how he'd gotten used to disappointment when it was not Laurent.

He worked out every morning, ran several miles a day, threw himself into work, and did everything he could to distract himself, but this useless, restless energy racing under his skin wouldn't leave him.

He was sure the situation with Laurent had nothing to do with him; although they had fought, sort of, that night before, Damen thought they had handled it. Damen had come out of that night feeling more secure in their relationship. Maybe that was what had Laurent so on edge, requiring distance and time to regroup after being placed in such a vulnerable and raw position. But Damen had been so sure they had moved on from that.

It didn't feel good that the day after he confessed his love to Laurent, Laurent decides to stop talking to him. Even if the two issues are not connected, and is only about his family, the possibility of an association made Damen uneasy. Especially because Laurent wouldn't just _talk_ to him so they could sort all of this out.

If Laurent wanted to end it with him, he needed to just do it, because this state of limbo Damen was living in right now was a personal hell. He didn't _do_ uncertainty; something either was, or wasn't, not this in-between mess.

It was nice to disguise himself, duck into a random bar and go unnoticed. He didn't have to play nice with Jokaste, who was hanging around the palace more and more, or pretend that everything was fine with Laurent in front of his father, or suffer Kastor's smug, knowing looks. He didn't, as he was doing as of late, have to come up with excuses for why he couldn't come to the palace, so he could escape all of them. He could just be.

"It's not good to drink by yourself, brother."

Damen just barely held back a loud sigh at the sound of his brother's voice cutting through his thoughts. Of course.

He made himself turn from his place at the end of the bar. Kastor took a seat next to him, an easy smile on his face, his dark beard neatly trimmed. He had styled it after their father, and Damen was struck by how similar they looked at this moment. It made him angrier. Being in Father's good graces and his upcoming fatherhood had changed Kastor's manner from barely tolerable to completely insufferable. Gone were the easy days of their boyhood, when Damen looked up to Kastor and worked to make him proud, his brother’s praise sometimes worth even more than their father's. Damen didn’t know when they lost that part of their relationship, or if it had only ever been one-sided.

"I'm not good company tonight, Kastor," Damen grunted, and turned to face forward again. He started counting the bottles lining the back wall, consciously relaxing his hand that had started gripping the beer tightly when he first heard Kastor’s voice.

The barman approached, and took Kastor's order.

"I've heard," Kastor said, ignoring Damen's mood. "You haven't been around the palace these past couple of days, but we've all seen the headlines. ‘ _Lame end to Lamen, International Royal Couple Cools Down as Delpha Trial Heats Up._ ' Lamen? Really? Who came up with that one? I'd ask if you dumped him like Father instructed, but by your moping, the ice prince must have clued up and done it himself."

Damen's hand had unconsciously tensed again around the beer glass. He made himself breathe out slowly, tried to start recounting the liquor bottles facing him.

Kastor thumped him on the back, and leaned in close. "This is a good thing, Damen. It was only ever a fling, and now you can get serious about finding a suitable partner; preferably one with breasts and the ability to have children."

Damen shrugged off his brother’s hand. "I'm serious, Kastor, I don't want to talk to you about this."

Kastor didn’t realize the danger he was in, the agitated energy humming beneath Damen's skin, begging to be released, just waiting for a thinly veiled excuse. He laughed in Damen's face and Damen's heart hardened.

"Are you just pissed you didn’t get a good poke in him first? I'm assuming you hadn't, or else you'd have bigger problems with your dick frozen off. Or is that actually why you're upset?" He laughed at his own joke while Damen tried to stop the images of punching Kastor in the face from spurring him to action. "Really, I don't know why you're so upset; he's just a pretty blonde. Find another one. Preferably one easier to fuck."

"Like Jokaste?" The words were out before Damen could think better of it. His brother threw out his words carelessly, without thought to how they'd be received, and Damen wanted to hurt back. He was starting to feel vicious, uncontrollable. He didn't realize how much he wanted a fight until one presented itself so neatly in front of him. "It only took _hours_ after meeting her before she was begging for my cock; she was a slut for it. You know she's only with you because I dumped her. Are you enjoying my sloppy seconds? You are good at being second best."

The words came out of Damen's mouth; that was his mouth moving, his voice in his ears; it was like he had no control over his body, like he had disconnected, like he was hearing everything through a television. Even before he finished, he watched as Kastor's face screwed up, turning ugly and mean. Damen smiled as Kastor stood up roughly and grabbed the front of Damen's jacket with his fists, angry and spitting. Damen was stronger than Kastor, though, and took pleasure in forcefully removing Kastor's hands from his person, laughing.

"Don't talk about her that way," Kastor hissed.

The laugh drained from Damen's face. "Then keep Laurent's name and anything about him out of your _fucking_ mouth," Damen said, his voice hard and unflinching. Despite his words, Damen wanted to beg Kastor to keep talking. His pent up frustration had finally found a target, and it felt _so good_ to be mean and petty, to imagine what he'd say if it was Auguste standing before him with his hurtful secrets or Laurent with his damning silence.

"You're just pissed that I'm father's favorite now," Kastor spat out, and Damen took note of the wild look in his eyes, like his brother was also letting out some pent up frustration of his own. "He's so deeply disappointed in you. You're failing him and our entire country. _I'm_ the one producing an heir, not you! I deserve to be Crown Prince instead of you, you ungrateful _brat_."

Damen laughed. So Kastor really was letting it all out. He wasn't even drunk this time. Damen supposed the words were supposed to hurt, to cut. Perhaps another time they would have, even though Damen knew all of these thoughts already. Instead, Damen felt exhilarated; alive and selfish. Here was a situation in front of him that Damen could _do_ something about, and he felt drunk with the power he felt over his brother.

"Right," Damen said carefully, slowly, staring straight into his brother's eyes, wanting to watch as his words made impact, "because Akielos will be so proud to have a bastard's bastard sitting on her throne."

Kastor punched him hard, on the jaw, just as Damen predicted, just as he wanted. Damen took the blow, swung back with the impact, and felt the sharp pain blossom over his face. Damen heard the bartender, distantly, shout at them to leave the bar if they wanted to rough-house, but the pounding in Damen's ears blocked out anything else besides his brother's angry face in front of him.

His blood sang with adrenaline; he only cared now about releasing this violent energy, of punishing Kastor for his callous words and selfish thoughts. He punched his brother in the stomach, then elbowed him on the head. Kastor was quick on his feet, and rushed Damen until they were both on the floor.

Bar stools fell around them and patrons were shouting, but neither of them gave any of that a second thought. They tumbled around the floor, Kastor getting in a few good hits before Damen used his strength to drive his fist into the side of Kastor's head, knocking him back until Damen could get on top. Mindlessly, he had started driving his fists into Kastor's face. Someone tried to stop him, grab his arm, but he ruthlessly pushed them away. Every fist into Kastor's face was frustration leaking out of him until he was blissfully left with nothing, no other thoughts, no anxiety or worry or uncertainty, just the clear focus of wanting to hurt his brother as much as possible and having the means and will to do it.

It wasn't until someone wrapped their arm tightly around his neck from behind that he stopped— _sleeper hold_ , Damen registered in the back of his head, just before he slipped away into unconsciousness.

-

Fuck.

Sitting with his head between his legs, Damen was beginning to feel the full weight of what he'd done. It wasn't like he'd hit his brother and then calmed down and was kicked out of the bar, still maintaining anonymity. No, he'd lost control of himself and his anger, beat his brother bloody, and was apparently dragged out of the bar after being choked out.

His throat hurt, an aching pain that came and went and made him cough. He’d done this to others during his physical training, but rarely had the move been used on him.

Damen had been so full of blind rage, it had taken someone rendering him unconscious before he'd stopped. He didn't recognize himself right now, and he wished he was living someone else's life, that it was someone else's bloody knuckles he could feel throbbing. He wished he could close his eyes and wake up to relive the day, make different choices.

He knew he was prone to violence. Most of the time he was hyperaware of his strength and large physique that he did everything he could to discourage the aggressive image he knew he could portray. He didn't believe he was ever capable of this, though.

He didn't even know where Kastor was. The hospital? All he knew was that he had woken up about an hour ago alone in a jail cell, somewhere in the back where no other jailers could see him. It was an attempt at discretion. When the police officer approached him, clearly intimidated by his status, and asked if he wanted to make his phone call with a shaky voice, Damen declined.

He couldn’t imagine talking to his father right now. He had no idea what he'd say, no idea how he'd atone for the shame he put on his family, on his country, because of his deplorable actions. He had no idea what the repercussions would be for this display of reckless violence.

It hadn't always been like this with Kastor, at least from Damen's perspective. But again, he wondered how much of that was him being naive. Had his brotherhood with Kastor always been riddled with jealousy? Had Kastor ever been true to him?

When Damen received good grades in school, Kastor had seemed proud of him, but maybe that was because Kastor had tutored him. Damen had felt so proud when he was old enough to spar with his brother, and play sports with him, and took it as a matter of pride that Kastor never went easy on him. How many injuries did Damen suffer because Kastor had _wanted_ to hurt him? For all the times Damen got right back up, to try and impress his brother, was Kastor really wishing he had stayed down?

Surely not. Surely it hadn't all been fake.

Kastor had been there for him when he was sick, holding his hand by his bedside when he was just a child. Kastor taught him how to ride his first horse and how to take care of his pony. They had spent many afternoons together galloping along the shores lining the palace. Kastor was the one who taught him how to drive, letting Damen sit behind the wheel of his expensive sports car before Damen was even old enough to test for his license, in secret from their father;  he had helped Damen pick out his first truck.  It wasn’t all a lie, was it?

Damen just couldn't make sense of it. It wasn't like he had any real power, as Crown Prince and future King of Akielos. It wasn't like when he became King that _meant_ anything. He was nothing more than a symbol now. Kastor had nothing to be jealous of. _He_ was the one who had real power between the two of them, who got to live a semi-normal life and pursue his own career goals instead of having one thrust upon him. Damen had never shied away from the limelight and attention, had never been bothered by being Crown Prince and what that meant for him and his future. But of the two of them, Kastor had the real freedom, and the power of choice, and the actual power behind being an influential judge.

And Kastor had the person he loved next to him.

How much easier would his relationship with Laurent be if he wasn't Crown Prince?

What on _earth_ did Kastor have to be jealous of?

His relationship with Kastor had deteriorated such that he knew he'd never get an answer to that fundamental question.

Damen didn't know what time it was or how much time had passed before his father finally came and stood before him. He knew it had been at least a few hours of Damen sitting, not on the thin cot provided to him, but on the hard, concrete floor. His discomfort eased his guilt in small amounts.

 Damen hadn't called his father, but he wasn't surprised his father had found him.

Theomedes was an imposing figure, more so as Damen sat on the floor and looked up at him through the bars of his cell. He was as tall as Damen, and broad-shouldered, thick with muscle even in his sixties, with a stern face and thin lips. The strands of grey that stood out against his natural dark hair only served to make him look wiser, and he held himself with clear authority and confidence. Damen, who had been sitting with his knees drawn to his chest and his head hanging, immediately stood up when he noticed whose shadow it was casting into the cell. Subconsciously, Damen stood straight-backed, like a solider facing his commanding officer. That was the way it was with his father, King Theomedes, who was better suited for ancient times when kings led armies into battle, when the mere presence of the king made everyone else bow down.  

Theomedes was a good forty years older than Damen, considering all the time it took before Damen's mother was able to carry a child to term. Damen felt all the years separating them now, feeling like he was fourteen instead of twenty-four. How many more times was Damen going to disappoint his father? He only ever wanted to make his father proud of the man he'd become and it seemed everything he did caused the opposite.

Theomedes stood in front of the cell with his hands behind his back, his face neutral and hard, for several moments, just staring at Damen as if in deep contemplation. Damen gulped, found himself blinking too much with the effort to maintain eye contact, marveling at the fact that his father was the only person alive who could make him feel so small and insignificant.

Just when Damen was about to break the silence, Theomedes moved one hand out from behind him. He was holding a magazine in his hand, and Damen flinched when his father held it through the bars without saying a word.

"Father," Damen started, his voice desperate. "I am so sorry. Tell me how I can fix this."

Still, Theomedes didn’t say anything, but gestured that Damen should take the magazine.

With a deep breath, knowing he couldn't avoid this forever, although still not feeling ready to face the repercussions of his actions, Damen took hold of it. He expected the cover to have a cell phone photo of him and Kastor's fight, maybe even of Damen being dragged out of the bar, knocked out cold. He had been bracing himself for the headline, for what it would say about him, or his family. What he didn't expect to find was a picture of Prince Torveld making out with two men at a nightclub.

"What?" Damen looked up to his father in confusion. Besides the fact that apparently, according to the headline, Torveld was happily in a gay polyamorous relationship with two Akielon diplomats to Patras, it wasn't the royal gossip Damen expected to find on the cover.

"I received a call thirty minutes after you were arrested," Theomedes said, finally, his voice hard but with a hint of incredulity. "From Prince Laurent of Vere."

" _What?_ "

Damen was stunned and couldn’t process what Theomedes had said to him for a few seconds. Laurent had called his father before even speaking to Damen, as if Damen wasn't dying to hear from Laurent these past few weeks? And he'd called his _father?_ Laurent had even more of a reason to avoid talking to Theomedes. Even Damen hadn’t been able to bring himself to make that call to his father, yet Laurent had done the brave deed.

"He told me," his father continued as if Damen hadn't spoken, “what happened. That Kastor, having been recognized, was taken to the palace for discretion, but that you were being taken to jail to sit in a cell through the night. He then said, in typical, pompous Veretian-fashion, that he was going to 'take care of it.'" Theomedes' lips curled in distaste as he repeated Laurent's words.

Damen looked down at the magazine cover again.                       

"Yes," Theomedes said. "Even though I told him, in no uncertain terms, he needed to mind his own business and stay out of Akielon royal affairs—" Damen looked sharply back up at his father. "—he still managed to _take care of it_."

Damen took a deep breath and internalized all of this. "So the press has been distracted, by this. But what about the people who were there?"

" _We've_ managed to take care of them. They've been paid off and all photos and videos deleted from their cell phones after signing very strict non-disclosure agreements. I spoke to Pallas a few minutes before arriving here, and apparently the pictures and videos that did manage to find their way online are being ruthlessly undermined and you studiously defended. They're being called fakes."

This was too easy, Damen thought. He'd been prepared for the worst, and he didn't know how to handle the relief he felt. It left him feeling unbalanced, if he was being honest. He _deserved_ the public ridicule for what he had done to Kastor, for the way he had lost control of his anger. And the fact that Laurent had gotten involved, and knew what he had done…

"I don't need to tell you what a mess this could have been," his father said, and Damen flinched at his tone.  "We have Veretians calling us animals, saying that we're violent and aggressive, and you go and smash your brother's face in, in public, proving them right! You were reckless and an embarrassment to the Crown. This would have been a PR _nightmare_ if it hadn't been handled. If—" His father made a face like he had eaten a lemon. "—Prince Laurent hadn't handled it as swiftly as he did."

Damen, reeling from his father's rebuke, shame welling up in him like bile, focused on that piece of information. So that's why he did it, Damen thought. To ensure Guion didn't have any more material to work his hate speech off of.

"Father, I am sorry," Damen said, his head bowed. "I know that I—"

"We’ll talk more about it later," Theomedes interrupted, cutting him off sharply. He looked at Damen with disappointment and mild disgust. "You'll stay the rest of your time in jail; maybe you can better reflect on your actions here."

Damen nodded and stepped back from the bars.

There was still something Damen needed to know. "Father," he said, "how is Kastor?"

"Your brother will be fine," his father said brusquely. "You broke his nose, and he is very angry. The two of you will have to find a way to resolve your issues without it spilling over in public."

Damen thought his father needed to stop pitting them against each other for his attention and praise, but he bit his tongue. This was his fault, not his father's; not Kastor's.

As his father was walking around the corner, he mentioned, "I think something on page 56 is for you," before leaving Damen's sight.

Immediately, Damen sat down on the cot and turned to the page in question. It was in the middle of some inane article about relationship advice. With his heart racing, Damen's eyes scanned the page for anything that could be related to Laurent. Damen tried to not get his hopes up again, thinking maybe his father had been mistaken.

But no— there. In the middle of the page in a speech bubble, almost lost in the scatter of other personal stories, read: "You told me I could always lean on you for support, but in my greatest moment of need, I forgot that I am no longer alone. I pushed you away when I should have shared my burdens with you. I am sorry for my lack of trust in us, and for how it hurt you so deeply. DV, please forgive me. - LR of Arles."

Damen leaned his head back against the concrete wall, and quietly laughed. Relief, real and immense, flooded him, and he felt boneless and exhilarated as tension he had held in his body for weeks drained out of him. Not only did this make Damen feel like he had ascended into the clouds, but he knew that this, too, was part of Laurent's plan in protecting Damen's reputation. Soon, the interwebs would be flooded with screenshots and discussions around this public apology, perhaps the first post being from Laurent himself, anonymous. Between this and Prince Torveld's new love affairs, nobody would find out that Damen had beaten up his brother in a public bar.

Feeling light-headed and giddy, Damen pulled out his phone—privilege of being a prince was that they didn’t take away his belongings—and quickly took a picture of his face and the magazine blurb, and sent it to Laurent. "You did all of this for me? Thank you." And then, immediately after, a second text, "Of course I forgive you. I always just wanted you to be okay."

He glanced at the top of his phone, and realized it was four in the morning.

Laurent's reply was quicker than he anticipated, as if he'd been waiting for Damen’s text. "I should hope so," Laurent wrote. "I had to call in a huge favor with Torveld for permission to leak that photo."

Damen just laughed, and spent the rest of his morning texting his boyfriend.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Endless thanks to [Sara](http://sarabelium.tumblr.com/); without her none of this would be possible. She prioritized sending back her edits for this chapter over studying (and she's in med school, ya'll, like... big deal). She also did the amazing mock magazine cover! 
> 
> [You can also come talk to me](http://americancupsofbritishtea.tumblr.com/), if you'd like! The Summer Palace slaughtered me, and I'm still recovering.


	4. Spring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Porn, plot, and pleasantries await you.
> 
> Good things come to those who wait?
> 
> Warning: The uncle features, so expect references to canon-typical Regent behavior.
> 
> Also, if you think Aleron was a good father... my apologies. I don't.

Laurent arrived in Ios unofficially, a few days before he was scheduled to arrive.

Every five years in the springtime was the Akielon Games. Although rooted in Akielon culture, the Games were now an international event, anticipated by everyone in all four kingdoms.

They were still held in Akielos, in an arena thirty minutes outside of the capital city of Ios. The first year Vere participated—last to be invited—they demanded the Games be held in their capital, but when the Akielon diplomat overseeing those negotiations brought forward the total amount it would cost Veretian tax-payers to build all the necessary facilities and mentioned that snow still lined the sidewalks in Arles, Vere backed down, and it was never officially brought up again.

The biggest change in the Games was that there were now two of them: the regular Games, and the Royal Games. As sustainable peace fell over the lands, the Games were no longer organized by Kings, but by international committees; the competitors stopped being soldiers, and instead were professional athletes, who were more often than not unaffiliated with the military. The royals, no longer leading men into war on horseback or practicing sword-fighting as a matter of life or death, were steadily defeated and pushed out of the Games.

The Royal Games developed as a compromise, spearheaded by the Akielon King at the time, Damen's great-grandfather, and was sustained through, at first, thinly veiled hostility and a desired excuse to have _some_ way to keep fighting the spoiled, pampered Veretian royals. Now, it was maintained by teasing and healthy competition.

As he grew older and started competing in the royal Games himself, Damen realized it served a different purpose than originally intended. Damen saw their version of the Games as a way to humanize them in front of their citizens. It honored the old times when Kings and Princes were expected to be in peak physical condition, but also allowed their populace to get to know them and cheer for them.

Damen was looking forward to these Royal Games more than usual.

They were always held two days after the closing ceremony of the regular Games. To avoid overcrowding the Ios palace, a separate palace was built closer to the facilities with accommodations to suit every hierarchy of foreign royal guests. Some royals arrived early in preparation and to attend the regular Games to cheer on their country-folk. Damen knew, as international liaison, that a few of King Torgeir's cousins had already arrived, as well as some minor royals from Vask. This year, with the issues going on in-house, the Veretian royal family was expected to arrive one day before the royal Games.

And yet, Laurent stood outside Damen's apartment, a day before the regular Games began. He had given Damen nothing more than a short phone call’s notice an hour ago, informing Damen he had just landed, inconspicuously, at Ios International Airport, and he'd be at Damen's apartment shortly. Damen, who had actually been out, had to hurry home and try and do _some_ cleaning, mostly in the bathroom. His kitchen couldn’t be helped, unfortunately.

Laurent sauntered into Damen's apartment with his bags, heading for the open living area, and Damen was helpless to do anything but smile at him as he shut the door behind him.

"I tried to imagine arriving with my parents in a week and sneaking off to your apartments," Laurent explained, tucking a long strand of hair behind his ear, "and I was not successful in any of the scenarios. So I decided yesterday I'd be the adult that I am and arrive earlier and separately."

They hadn't seen each other in person since Damen was in Arles for the Winter Festival, the failed, stressful week that it had been, although they'd shared plenty of phone calls and video chats since then. Laurent seemed to be thinking of that, too.

"I'm not ready to tell you what made me so upset," he admitted.

"Okay," Damen said immediately. He could wait, as long as Laurent continued to allow him to stand by him. He drew Laurent into his arms, and Laurent folded easily into him. Damen pressed a quick kiss to the top of his head, and played with the tips of his hair—it was down to his shoulders now. After everything that had happened between them since they'd last laid eyes on each other, it was euphoric to have Laurent with him now.

"I'm glad you decided to come early," Damen said against blonde strands.

"Me, too," Laurent said quietly.

Damen leaned back, his eyes falling on Laurent's lips, wanting to reacquaint himself with them.

Laurent stepped back. "I do have other news," he announced.

He walked over to one of his bags near the couch, and pulled out a single sheet of paper. Although his back was still to Damen, Damen could tell he was hesitating with it, his shoulders tense. Laurent took a deliberate deep breath and turned around with an expression on his face that Damen couldn't immediately identify.

Damen's curiosity was piqued. "Is everything alright?" he asked.

Laurent seemed to be humming with sudden energy. He opened and closed his mouth several times, seemingly not knowing what to say, or how exactly to say what he wanted. It was uncharacteristic of him—he usually ten steps ahead of everyone else, his thoughts and words flowing easily. Damen went to him and gently touched his elbows.

"Laurent? What is it?" He was growing a little concerned.

Laurent took a deep breath and then locked eyes with Damen. "I applied to the University of Ios Law School, and I was accepted into their program." He held out the sheet of paper.

On impulse, Damen said, "Of course you were accepted," before internalizing the string of words Laurent had said. He took the paper and saw several things at once: University of Ios — law program — Laurent R — congratulations.

 "Wait—" Damen licked his lips to try and stop the smile from breaking ridiculously over his face. "You're coming to Ios this fall?"

In lieu of answering, Laurent said instead, "I was also accepted into Arles University's School of Law."

Damen could understood, if only by proxy, the type of decision that lay before Laurent, and the tension he must be feeling.

"Where do you want to attend?" Damen asked, thinking that was the right question to ask, his heart in his throat.

"I want to attend law school where I will practice law." His voice was firm, his eyes steady, but he was leaving the answer to Damen, leaving the implications of Damen's answer unspoken.

He was leaving the decision to Damen and there was only one conceivable answer.

He meant to sound certain, but could hear the pleading in his voice as he said, "Then come to Ios."

Laurent's face lit up with a joy that he tried to suppress, and mostly failed. He nodded. "Alright."

Before Damen could think, he had his arms wrapped around Laurent's entire body and lifted him into the air, squeezing him tight, and spinning him around, attempting to find some physical way to express the joy he felt. Laurent's laughter filled his ears, as his arms broke free from Damen's grasp to hook loosely around his neck.  Damen didn't know how long they stayed there like that, in Damen's living room, their arms wrapped around each other, Laurent's feet inches from the floor, their hearts beating as one.

"Laurent," Damen repeated, putting him back on the ground but keeping him close, "Laurent, does that mean—" Damen didn't know how to finish his thoughts, if he dared say aloud what he was thinking. _Prince Consort Laurent of Akielos_. He found he dared not, yet, but was giddy at the prospect, his mind beginning to run away from him.

"Hush," Laurent interrupted. He was still smiling widely, no longer attempting to hide it. He was toying with the hairs on the back of Damen's neck, as light blush coloring his cheeks. "You don't have to say it out loud," he said, as if knowing Damen's thoughts.

Damen just kept looking at him in wonderment, the future unfolding before him with an entirely new set of possibilities, all of them exciting and enticing. Damen would have to change his position as international liaison and instead petition to be the legislative royal representative, but that was easily done. Laurent was going to live in Ios, attend law school here, and he said he wanted to attend school where he intended to practice, which meant Laurent was already thinking of practicing law in Akielos, which meant that Laurent was also already thinking of — had let Damen confirm he was _also_ thinking of —

Again, unbidden, his mind supplied the title: _Prince Consort Laurent of Akielos_. He lips itched to say them, and he barely held himself back.

A happiness that could not be contained welled up in him. He drew Laurent to him and leaned down to kiss him, trying to put all his love into the kiss. He hadn't kissed Laurent in months, hadn't kissed him since he arrived and walked through Damen's door. He felt Laurent smiling against his lips, too, making it difficult for their kiss to deepen, but Damen didn't mind. It was the best kind of problem to have. One kiss became two, three, until he lost count, and Damen just started laughing again, incandescently happy.

"I love you," Damen said helplessly.

"And I you," Laurent said, after a pause.

Eventually, they ordered take-out and ate while watching the opening ceremony of the Games, making playful bets about which country would win at which sports. Slowly, as the night wore on, they moved to Damen's bedroom, and Laurent talked about how happy he was for Auguste and Aloisa, and how he thought she was a good fit for his older brother. Damen talked about how he and Kastor were talking again, how Jokaste's pregnancy was going well, and how Damen volunteered to pay for their nursery as recompense for his previous violent outburst.

After discussing Jokaste’s due date, Laurent jokingly teased, “You won’t be in Vere for my 21st birthday. What present do you have for me?"

Damen just smirked, and kissed him quiet. He thought about the first edition copy of the _History of Artes_ he had, written several hundred years ago, currently wrapped up and tucked away in his closet. He had to pull a lot of strings to ‘borrow’ it from the Delpha International Archives, starting with the promise that it was going to Prince Laurent (who was widely known to be a scholar and was therefore assumed to take good care of it) and that it would eventually be donated back to them. Damen couldn't wait to see how Laurent received the book, but that wouldn't be until the end of the week.

Damen was laying contentedly on his back, Laurent's head against his chest. They had grown quiet, but it wasn't uncomfortable.

This is how it would be all the time, soon, Damen's mind supplied. They'd be living in the same place—Laurent was going to live in Ios!—and Damen would be lucky enough to have him in his arms every night. He'd be able to give Laurent backrubs after stressful days, make him extra cups of coffee as he studied late into the night, prepare him a bountiful breakfast before big exams…

"Are you—do you think you'll live with me? Here? When you move to Ios?" Damen asked.

Laurent lifted his head and placed his chin on Damen's shoulder. "I was wondering when you'd ask that. I will have my own apartment, but I don't anticipate spending much time there."

Damen didn't say anything in response, just smiled at him, his hand starting to weave through Laurent's hair. Perhaps unconsciously, Laurent's eyes closed as he leaned into the touch. Then, slowly, Laurent pushed himself up until he was aligned against Damen, and leaned down, allowing their lips to touch.

They were slow kisses, but no less passionate, and Damen felt himself stir.

Laurent felt it, too. "It doesn't take much for you, does it?"

"You are on top of me, kissing me," Damen said in his defense. "That's about all it takes."

A light blush dusted Laurent's cheeks as he leaned down again, and they were once more kissing. It was easy, aimless kissing, the kind of kissing that could on pleasantly for ages, until their lips were sore. Damen was fully prepared to find out how long it would take.

"There is something I want," Laurent said, his voice a whisper.

"Anything," Damen said, and meant it.

Laurent licked his lips, nervous. Seemingly unable to say it in words, he rolled off of Damen and went to one of his bags, moved now to Damen's bedroom. "I've tried it on my own with smaller ones, but I'd like to do this one with you." He wasn’t able to completely hide his uncertainty.

"Whatever it is, Laurent, we can… do—" Damen broke off and his brain shut down. It took a few seconds to restart.

Laurent had turned around holding a thick, black dildo in his hands, with a face that betrayed his nervousness. 

Damen's face immediately flooded with heat, at the same time that he became instantly, achingly, hard.

"It's closer to your size, although I know it's not as big," Laurent said, with an air of attempted casualness.

Damen was still just staring, his ears pounding as his blood rushed south.

"Damen," Laurent said.

"What," Damen said. "Wait. You said you've used smaller ones on yourself?"

Laurent nodded once. He was still holding the toy in his hands, the one that he wanted Damen to stick inside of him. He wanted Damen to stick a dildo inside of him that more closely approximated the size of Damen's cock than any other dildo he had stuck inside of himself before. Laurent had stuck other dildos inside of himself before. Had probably laid back on his bed, had started with his fingers, hesitant and nervous, but excited, surprised with how good it felt, getting off as he moved the dildo in and out of himself.

"Damen," Laurent said, exasperated.

Damen's face was still flushed, his heart pounding.

Figuring that Damen wasn't going to make a move, Laurent placed the dildo on the bed and crawled back on top of him.

"You have to say yes, Damen," Laurent said, amused.

"Yes," Damen replied immediately, reaching up to tangle his hands in Laurent's hair.

This time their kisses were more heated, with purpose. The lips still moved slowly against each other, but the kisses were deep; tongues touched, lips bitten.

Laurent, from his position sitting on Damen's stomach, leaned back, and slowly, teasingly, removed his shirt. Damen pushed himself up and leaned on one hand as he placed kisses along the center of Laurent's firm chest, teased a nipple with his mouth, pinched the other with his fingers. The feel of Laurent's skin was intoxicating, his lean muscle unyielding.

Laurent grabbed at Damen's shirt, a wordless command that Damen obeyed, and then Laurent's hands were exploring Damen's back.

"Can I try something, too?" Damen asked, his voice coming out a whisper.

Laurent nodded. "Yes."

Laurent was flipped so he was laying on his stomach, and Damen quickly divested him of him pants and briefs. Damen could feel, with the rise and fall of his hand against Laurent's back, that Laurent's heart rate had increased. Damen took his time taking in the view before him, slowly running his hands down Laurent's body, grabbing the globes of his ass and squeezing, lightly scratching down the backs of Laurent's legs, mesmerized as light red lines appeared against his pale skin, along with goose bumps. Damen fit himself between Laurent's legs comfortably, spreading them.

Damen pressed a quick kiss and a nip on the smooth skin of Laurent's ass, his thumb pressing lightly against Laurent's entrance. Laurent's breath hitched. Damen had never touched him here before, and he liked it.

"Is this what you wanted to do?" Laurent asked, in an attempt to sound in control and commanding. "Tease me with your fingers? I figured you would anyway, at first."

"No," Damen said, with some amusement. "That's not what I want to do."

"Then what?" Laurent had turned his head from where it had been resting against his folded arms at the front of the bed, to look at Damen. His face was bright red, his face schooled in an attempt at normalcy, his long hair already messy.

"I want to eat you out," Damen said. He saw Laurent's eyes darken at his words, and his cock twitched between his legs.

"Okay," Laurent said, after a moment.

"Yes?" Damen clarified.

"Yes." Laurent was breathing faster, heavier.

Damen had actually never done this before, but the idea had presented itself to him, and he wanted to follow it through. Grabbing the mounds of Laurent's ass, he pulled them apart, giving himself a great view of Laurent's puckered entrance.

For a few seconds he just looked, until Laurent started squirming. Before Laurent could complain, Damen ran his tongue over him.

The response was instant. Laurent gasped, and instinctively pushed his ass back onto Damen's face. Damen responded by applying his tongue again, running over him a few more times before using his tongue to slowly tease his rim. It was a heady taste, clean and so unique to anything else Damen had ever experienced. Laurent himself was as expressive as he'd ever been. Normally he tried for controlled responses, but Damen seemed to have found the key to unlocking him.

Laurent was openly groaning now, moving his hips in small movements that allowed Damen to better fuck him with his tongue. Damen squeezed Laurent's ass harder, loving how they fit so perfectly in his hands, and moved his tongue in, alternating between tongue-fucking him and flickering around the edges.

Damen was completely sure he could make Laurent come like this, with Laurent rubbing himself almost unconsciously against the bed. But Damen wasn’t sure if Laurent, who was tired from his flight, would be able to get it up twice with enough time for them to sleep through the night and be well-rested for the following day. Damen considered it a worthwhile challenge but he was also eager to use the toy.

With that in mind, Damen removed his mouth and quickly grabbed his bottle of lube from the bedside table.

"What— what are you doing?" Laurent asked, his voice sharp.

"I thought you wanted the dildo?" Damen asked, grinning, feeling ridiculously proud of himself.

Laurent actually seemed to be thinking it over, as if that original request had been forgotten, and all he wanted was for Damen to put his mouth back where it had been.

Finally, he said, "Fine, yes, yes."

Damen coated three figures liberally with lube, not knowing the preparation Laurent had done to himself before, but determined to never hurt him. Due to the ministrations of his mouth, his first finger entered Laurent smoothly.

"Don’t—don't baby me, Damen," Laurent demanded. "I can take at least two."

Damen nipped at Laurent's ass. "My fingers are bigger than yours, and I'm quite enjoying the view." Nonetheless, he added in a second finger.

It was enticing, the reactions Laurent was giving. Damen knew his next purchase would be flavored lube, and wondered how Laurent would react if Damen added his tongue next to his fingers.

Laurent was now actively rocking back against Damen. Damen added a third finger, and watched how Laurent's body stretched, how Laurent was fucking himself, and Damen thrust his fingers in hard.

"Damen," Laurent said, helpless. "Damen, please. I’m ready."

"For the toy?" Damen asked, reaching for it on the bed.

"No," Laurent said. "For you. Please, Damen. Fuck me. I want you to fuck me."

It was an enticing thought. His body certainly was on board. But Damen shook it away after a moment's consideration. "Hush," Damen said softly. "I wouldn't last more than three seconds right now."

Laurent quickly moved so Damen's fingers fell out of him, and he flipped around to face Damen. He was red all over, flushed attractively.

"Damen, I'm ready," he said, almost begging. "I want to feel you inside of me. You won't hurt me. I want it, I’m ready."

But Damen was shaking his head, resolute. " _I'm_ not ready, Laurent," he said honestly, pleading. "I want it more than anything, but not tonight." He leaned down to kiss him, soothing.

For a moment it looked as though Laurent would keep pleading but he eventually nodded, and laid back down, this time on his back. "Well, good thing I brought a replacement."

Damen kissed Laurent again. He lubed up the toy, feeling its heaviness and thickness in his hand, almost held it alongside himself to compare, and narrowly avoided doing so. He began teasing Laurent's entrance with it, kneeling between Laurent's spread legs. He gave a quick lick up the underside of Laurent's cock. He was red and dripping, brought to the edge and hanging on.

"Fuck," Laurent said, the word coming out violently. "Fuck, just do it."

Damen watched Laurent's face closely as the thick dildo entered his body, looking for any sign of discomfort, and feeling contented when he found none. In fact, Laurent had his mouth open in a silent moan, his eyes closed in bliss.

Damen lifted one of Laurent's legs to rest over his shoulder, and he kissed the inside of his knee. The toy had bottomed out. Unable to look away, Damen drew the dildo out until only the tip of it remained, and then slowly pushed it back in. He was mesmerized, watching as Laurent's body took it all, greedy for it, and the illicit image of Laurent taking Damen's cock instead formed in his mind.

Laurent had taken hold of one of the bars on the headboard, and was beginning to fuck himself in earnest on the toy, moving in tune with Damen so that with each drag and thrust of the dildo, it was pushed deeper, harder.

The rimming earlier had opened a floodgate, and Laurent was vocal. His gasps and moans were loud and uninhibited, his movements confident and sure. One hand drifted to fist his cock, and he started pumping in time with Damen's ministrations.

"Damen," he panted, unusually loquacious during sex, but the master always of dirty talk. "Damen, I can't wait to feel your cock. I can't wait to be full from you, I want to feel you inside of me. This feels so good."

Damen undid the zipper on his pants and palmed himself. He wasn't going to last long; he was going to come in his pants like a teenager.

"Fuck, Laurent," he gasped.

"I wish you would," Laurent replied.

Then, with a shout, Laurent's body released, and the tension drained. He laid back on the bed, boneless. Damen's hand moved faster in his pants and he came with soft gasp.

It took a while before they moved again, but gently Damen took the toy out from Laurent's body, and then collapsed next to him. After a few more moments to catch their breath, they cleaned up, and then crawled back into bed, only wearing undergarments. They were laying on their sides, facing each other.

"You must think me selfish," Laurent said with lidded eyes. His eyelashes were long as he glimpsed through them.

"Why would I think that?" Damen replied, his head held up by his hand.

"I didn't exactly take care of you," Laurent explained.

Damen shook his head, laughing slightly. He removed the space between them, drawing Laurent to him. "Yes, you did. You have no idea how incredible you looked, fucking yourself on that dildo, do you? You told me what you wanted, and I was able to give it to you. That's all I ever want."

"You didn't give me everything I wanted," Laurent said.

Damen wondered when Laurent would bring that up; didn't imagine it would be until the next day, at least.

"Why did you hold back, when I asked you fuck me?" Laurent tucked his head under Damen’s chain, resting it on Damen’s collar, and Damen allowed him the quiet privacy of hiding his face.

"You had never asked for it before," Damen said, the answer coming to him as the words flowed out of his mouth. In the moment, he just knew it hadn't felt right. "I would have felt like I was taking advantage of you in the height of passion, if I had done it then."

Laurent pressed closer, and hid his face further against Damen's neck. Damen felt a light, quick kiss on the underside of his jaw.

"So I'm to let you know in advance," Laurent teased softly. "How much in advance? A few days, perhaps? Please fuck me on Wednesday at 9pm. Be sure to pencil it in."

Damen felt the teasing for what it was; nervousness and the feeling of slight rejection. "I just want it to be everything you want it to be." Damen's fingers pushed the hair hiding Laurent's face to rest behind his ear. He was struck anew by how beautiful Laurent was, their eyes meeting.

"I'm not worried," Laurent said in reply, gently pressing his lips to Damen's palm. "Not with you."

They fell asleep curled around each other, their legs intertwined.

-

The days that followed were easily some of the best in Damen's life. He had a few responsibilities to take care of before the Royal Games, but that was easily dealt with before noon each day. He'd come back to his apartments to find Laurent curled up in an armchair reading near the large window that overlooked Ios in the living room. Damen realized this was a bit of a vacation for Laurent, who, although still technically in enrolled in courses, was practically finished, having accepted his spot at the University of Ios.

Damen would walk through the door, and Laurent would smile at him, the sunlight from the window making him appear ethereal and glowing. He'd mark his place in the book, and then they would leave for lunch somewhere in town before heading to the outskirts of the city to attend the Games.

A few days into the week, Damen came home to find Laurent curled up in the chair with his book, like normal, wearing Damen's old University of Ios tee-shirt. Damen soon discovered, after an impish grin from Laurent, that it was _all_ he was wearing. Laurent extended his leg playfully and Damen caught him by the ankle. "Maybe instead of going out for lunch today, we could stay in and you could eat me out instead?"

Damen stepped forward until Laurent's leg was stretched at a ninety-degree angle, resting against his chest. Laurent was very flexible. "You've been waiting all morning to say that to me, haven't you?" But he could tell his breath was labored, felt himself becoming interested.

"I have, I'm quite proud of it," Laurent said.

Damen picked him up around the waist and carried him to his bedroom over his shoulder, Laurent laughing in mock complaint. They didn't make it to the Games that day.

Although Laurent had arrived in Ios inconspicuously, he didn't stay that way. Everyone knew he was in town, and their excursions in the city were plastered all over social media websites, Damen even adding a few himself. Laurent looked good in Ios, his face softer and mannerisms easier. No political disasters had happened and they didn't bring any past ones up. It made Damen pause, though, on the first day Laurent was in town, and he questioned if Laurent's parents knew.

"Yes," Laurent answered. "They know I wouldn't be arriving with them; I told them I was taking some extra time off to spend with you.” He turned back to watching the horse races.

After a while, Damen asked, "Are you competing this year?"

Laurent gave him a quizzical look. "We had to declare our intentions to compete and in which categories months ago. You didn't look?"

"Oh, no," Damen admitted. Damen had been concentrating on his five categories, training for the past couple of months, with the intent of winning in all of them.           

"Well, as it's my debut year," Laurent said, "I signed up for horseback-riding, naturally, but also the _okton_ , and sword-fighting."

Damen remembered the Games from five years ago, how it had been him and Auguste in the final round, and after what felt like an hour of strikes and parries and quick steps around the training field, Auguste finally got the upper-hand and Damen's sword had been flung across the arena. It had been close, and easily the best match of his life. He was still smarting from the loss, and very eager for a rematch.

Damen also remembered the Games from five years ago because it was the first time he had met Laurent, who had been a stern-looking teenager, spending most of the Games with a red-face hiding behind a book. The sun in Akielos _had_ been strong that spring.

Damen nudged Laurent playfully. "I'm surprised you even know what sports are played at the Games. You had your nose in a book the entire time during the last one."

Laurent's face reddened, like it had five years ago, and he kept his eyes forward, not turning to Damen.

"I only won three gold medals at the last Games," Damen remarked, thinking again how he was intending to win five this year. At those thoughts, he cut his eyes to Laurent.

"Four," Laurent corrected, as if he couldn't help himself. His blush deepened.

"Oh, yeah, that's right. Hold on…" Damen smiled wide. "You _were_ watching the Games." At Laurent's silence, Damen laughed. "You were watching _me_! You were fifteen."

Laurent rolled his eyes, but his blush didn't diminish. "A perfectly acceptable age to appreciate physical strength in the male body."

Damen giggled, leaned in close. "You had a crush on me."

Laurent shoved him, but he was grinning. He hadn't denied it.

-

The day before the Royal Games, Damen became busier with his role as international liaison. Laurent left early in the morning to meet up with his family and "officially" arrive, and Damen, having relocated himself to the palace near the sport fields, spent his morning greeting the arriving royalty from Patras and Vask, and minor nobility from Vere.

They all moved to the great hall of the palace, mingling and catching up, awaiting a grand feast for lunch.

Damen, who had friends as well as responsibilities in all four kingdoms, was making his rounds through the room. He saw Jokaste, newly engaged to Kastor, speaking with the Queen of Patras with one hand on her protruding stomach. Both of them were smiling happily. His father, he saw, was across the room enraptured in a conversation with General Makedon, who was invited to every Royal Games as a formal guest. Damen lamented briefly that Nikandros, tied up in the Delpha trial, would be unable to attend this year. Damen nodded to Princess Aloisa, who was tolerating a conversation with one of Damen's cousins. He debated whether or not to rescue her, decided she could handle her own, and then headed over to speak with Prince Torveld, who had two younger Akielon men with him. Damen finally recognized them as Kallias and Erasmus, diplomats to Patras. So Laurent hadn't made it up on his account.

"Torveld," Damen called out, grabbing the other man's attention. "How are you?"

"Damianos, great to see you!" Torveld replied jovially. "This is one of my favorite events, so I'm doing fantastic. I saw that you're participating in five categories this year, including spear-throwing?" It was a question, as it was unusual to compete in so many.

"Yes," Damen answered simply. "I've been practicing my throw for months."

Torveld looked mildly shocked. "I would have thought you were going to preserve your energy for sword-fighting. Auguste is only competing in four categories."

"Oh, is he?" Damen asked, non-committal. "He'll be in fresh form for our rematch then, making my victory all the sweeter." Especially because, if he won in all the other categories, it would be his fifth gold medal, securing his ability to follow through on what he had planned.

 He turned his eyes on the two men behind Torveld, waiting for introduction.

"May I?" Torveld asked, stepping behind the men. "This is Kallias, and Erasmus. They are diplomats from your fine country. The rumors are true, I can personally confirm; the three of us are lovers. They have requested permanent placement in Patras, especially after the news."

"Prince Damianos," Kallias said first, bowing his head, then Erasmus.  

"I had been informed prior," Torveld said in a lowered voice, answering the unasked question. "In fact, when Prince Laurent called and asked if he could release that photo, I was relieved. Not only does Prince Laurent now owe me a favor, but we can live openly. My brother has given us his blessing."

Torveld grew a little wistful, and then admitted, "Once upon a time, I had intended to gain permission to court Prince Laurent. He is very beautiful, you know."

"I do know," Damen agreed, feeling an edge to his smile.

"But I can see now that you are a better match for him," Torveld continued. 

Damen unconsciously stood a little straighter. "Yes, we are very happy. I'm glad you have found your lovers, as well. If the three of you ever need anything… I am also in your debt."

"I'll be sure to let you know."

Torveld, with his two lovers, left to inquire after room arrangements from one of the organizers, and Princess Aloisa quickly replaced his presence in front of him, having escaped from presumably a very boring conversation with his older cousin about the price of wool in Kesus, where he lived.

"What's keeping our men so long?" she asked, hands on her hips, long hair flowing behind her.

Damen had been wondering the same thing. It was nearly time for the feast to begin, and the Veretian royal family had yet to arrive at the great hall.

"I'm not sure, actually," Damen admitted. "Has something happened?"

Aloisa simply shrugged. Her eyes drifted over to where her older sister, Sonya, was now speaking to Jokaste.

"She's doing well, then?" Aloisa asked, referencing Jokaste.

Damen chuckled. "She's carrying the next heir of Akielos, so I'd say she's doing great. Did you see the grand engagement party she and Kastor threw?"

"The next heir of Akielos… Is it official, then?"

"Not at all," Damen said. "No one has dared imply anything. But it is still likely true."

Aloisa hummed in thought. "You and Laurent could always adopt. A nice child from Delfeur, one with the perfect mix of Akielon and Veretian genes. Or, have you considered artificial insemination?"

Damen hadn't considered anything. "Adoption could get complicated quick, don't you think? Royalty still rely on blood lines."

"Artificial insemination it is, then!" Aloisa declared with a grin. "There are plenty of blond Veretian women willing to be paid royally, literally, to carry your baby."

Aloisa’s words made Damen think of vague possibilities, but this ran a little too close to some of the insecurities that had appeared in Laurent a few months ago. "No," he said firmly. "Laurent and I will be content as uncles. Would you like to turn our conversation over now to your future children?" Damen teased.

Aloisa evaded the question by moving her gaze to the doors that led into the hall. "Oh, look," she said. "They've arrived. Auguste doesn't look happy."

Laurent looked completely neutral, but Auguste had a harder time hiding his emotions in general, and was breathing heavily as though attempting to hide it. King Aleron almost looked furious, but Queen Hennike had a deliberate, soft smile on her face.

Theomedes greeted them cordially, as the hosting King, and Damen saw this as his opportunity. This was something that should have been done nearly a year ago upon the realization that he had not officially introduced Laurent to his father yet—he had been embarrassed at his oversight, but Laurent had accepted his apologies coolly, with a look that promised he'd allow Damen to make it up to him later.

Before his father could disperse back into the crowd, Damen went up, gave a quick kiss to Laurent's cheek, and then, with his hand on the small of Laurent's back, steered them to stand in front of Theomedes. It was also strategic timing, presenting Laurent to his father in front of Laurent's family.

Years of undergoing constant public surveillance and the grace that came from continued practice, meant that all of them felt the sudden tension, but none remarked or reacted to it.

"Father," Damen said, "I would like to officially reintroduce Prince Laurent to you, as my partner."

"King Theomedes," Laurent said graciously, bowing formally, although Damen could feel the tension in his body. They had discussed this occurrence happening, but Damen now wondered if the timing was incredibly off, Laurent additionally tense from whatever familial problem was going on; this, now, just added stress requiring further taxing emotional control. But if Damen were to _not_ introduce Laurent at such a gathering, since he hadn't already, it would send an even worse message.

Laurent continued in flawless Akielon. "It has been my joy this past year to be with your son, and I look forward to many more years in partnership. I can tell he was raised well; to be courteous, kind, and fair. He will make a great King someday, like yourself."

Nobody seemed to be moving, waiting to see how Theomedes would respond, particularly with the Veretian royal family standing close by. At least it seemed to be distracting them from what had made them so angry when they walked in, Damen thought. Another benefit of introducing Laurent at this juncture was that Theomedes would have to filter any potential negative thoughts, as Laurent’s parents, not to mention royalty and media from all four kingdoms, were within earshot.

Theomedes nodded in acknowledgement to Laurent's words. "Thank you, Prince Laurent, for your words, and for taking care of my son. I am positive I will be seeing more of you. I extend good fortune to you in the Games."

Having fulfilled the social niceties required of him, Theomedes extracted himself from the group. Damen let out a deep breath, feeling irritation itching at him. Laurent was looking critically at Theomedes' retreating back.

Before much more could be said, lunch was announced. Several round tables had been set up in the room to accommodate them as they would be served twelve courses by the palace staff. There were name placards as well, with assigned seating arrangements. Damen was to be seated a few tables away from Laurent near the Empress of Vask, meaning he wouldn't have the opportunity to speak to Laurent about what caused the anger in Aleron's face when they walked in.

Damen then noticed who was assigned to sit next to Laurent, and realized someone had a very questionable sense of humor. Who, exactly, had arranged the seating?

"Excuse me, Damianos, you're standing in front of my seat."

Damen spun around and saw Jokaste, smiling sweetly. He hesitated to move, and was caught.

"Damianos," Laurent said, matching Jokaste's tone. "Your seat is regrettably not at this table."

He still didn't want to move, but was becoming very perturbed at how similar the two of them favored each other in appearance and demeanor now that they were standing side by side in front of him.

"Right," Damen said awkwardly. "I'll just—"

Damen kept his eyes on them during the entire lunch, but for all he could tell, they were actually have a very pleasant conversation.

-

Damen crept along the white marble walls of the palace toward the wing where the Veretian family was staying. He knocked firmly on the set of doors leading into their suite, and was led into the sitting room by Laurent. It was nearing midnight; Auguste and Aloisa were sitting on a love seat. Damen took a seat next to Laurent, across from them.

"We have much to discuss, friend," Auguste said. Without preamble, he continued. "Certain things have disclosed regarding my uncle, which may reflect poorly upon my family. We’re worried that Guion, who has been gaining traction—especially by fanning the flames coming off the Delpha trial—will use this to his advantage.” 

Damen was immediately confused. "What do you mean, exactly? You mean your uncle who was put into a psychiatric ward after a traumatic brain injury?" What did their uncle have to do with Guion?

"If that were the real reason he was put away," Laurent cut in. He was sitting with a knee to his chest, a childhood posture of comfort. "You may have figured out by now that the mental break was a story we told the press. Apparently, the story I was told about treason was made up as well.” Laurent sent a look at Auguste, who looked away. "Although Guion has always been deferential to the royal family in the political sphere, he—perhaps even more now due to our relationship—believes Father is purposely pandering to Akielons so as to not break the alliance. With every speech and public appearance, it appears Guion’s target is now my family.”

Laurent looked shaken despite his calm voice. Damen reached for Laurent’s hand, and Laurent grasped it tightly, unthinking.

"Guion is only one person," Aloisa said, her brows creased. "How could he ever believe he’d gain enough support to carry out a campaign against the royal family?"

"This is where it gets complicated," Laurent said, his fingers going to rub his brow, as if staving off a headache. "The hate campaign Guion is running against Akielos is aimed at creating strain between Akielos and Vere. He’s forcing everyone to choose sides. If the circumstances behind our uncle’s banishment ever came to light, it would be more than enough damning evidence to sway the evanescent support from our citizens. He’s becoming an ever-growing threat and it is frustrating because our father isn't listening, not even to Auguste."

Auguste took a deep breath, and then addressed Aloisa and Damen, his voice heavy. "We are worried our family will be thrown into scandal soon."

Aloisa's face broke out in shock. "You're informing us in case we'd like to quietly disconnect ourselves from your family."

Laurent's lips hooked into a sardonic smile. "With as much potential scandal as we've just disclosed to you regarding the dirty inner-workings of our family, we're hoping neither of you do. But it is a warning. It would be unfair otherwise, as you are both publicly tied to us."

"What exactly do you fear, Laurent?" Aloisa asked, critical. "What possible scandal could damage your family after so many years? Your family is beloved by your people. If your uncle wasn't put away for psychosis or treason, then why was he?"

Laurent and Auguste met eyes.

"Our uncle," Laurent said, turning back to Aloisa, "isn't a good man. In an off-chance that you may be implicated, I cannot say why."

"Well, regardless of what happens, if anything, I'm not going anywhere." Aloisa turned her fiery eyes to Auguste, whose eyes were adoring, face marred with concern.

Auguste took her hand and kissed it. "I know, thank you."

Damen had been a quiet observer, allowing Aloisa to ask many of his own questions and wondering just how much more Laurent was hiding. Laurent glanced coolly over to Damen.

"It is insulting to even suggest," Damen said. He looked at both brothers. "I will stand by you and your family through anything, you know that."

Laurent's eyes moved quickly to meet Auguste's again. It was unreadable expression. Laurent stood up from the couch, and gestured for Damen to follow him. "Come with me," he said. "Good night, Auguste, Aloisa."

Damen followed Laurent from the sitting room to his personal rooms he was using for the duration of his stay at the palace. They were exquisitely furnished and decorated in elaborate Veretian style, befitting a prince, with its own antechamber. That is where Laurent took a seat, and Damen sat across from him.

Laurent was looking down at the plush carpeting. “Auguste said it was my story to tell, and to whom I saw fit.”

Laurent took a few minutes to gather his thoughts, and Damen realized his own heart was pounding. There was only one unanswered question.

“I understand your worry that I may be caught in whatever crossfire,” Damen began slowly, his hand reaching for Laurent’s. His other hand went for Laurent’s chin, tilting his head so Damen could look him straight in the eye as he said, “but no matter what happens, or what you have to say, I stand with you.”

After another long moment of silence, Laurent pulled away, and Damen squashed down his dismay. He could tell Laurent was trying to pull himself together mentally by physically sitting up straight-backed and poised.

Laurent began quietly, "When I was twelve, my uncle attempted to sexually assault me.” Damen made a noise, and Laurent threw him a look. “Let me finish, please.”

Damen bit his tongue and nodded.

“It was Auguste who had discovered us. I was drugged, and I don't remember any of it, which is why Auguste decided to keep the truth from me, until a few months ago.” Laurent’s lips twisted, into an ugly smile. "We—and by that I mean my brother—are fairly certain that it was the first attempt."

Rage had flooded Damen's blood at Laurent's words, and his fists curled tightly to restrain himself. The urge for violence was sudden and sharp.

"I was also told," Laurent continued, "that I was not the only one. My uncle had been caught with other boys before, but because of his status, he was never charged and it never became public knowledge. My father knew of this, but loved his brother too much—or perhaps feared that it would tarnish our family’s reputation too much—to do anything besides plead for him to stop, and cover it up when he didn't. I was the crossed-line that landed my uncle in a cell. Apparently it took incest for my father to stop turning a blind eye." Laurent's voice was bitter, angry.

Damen's ears were ringing, he was so furious. At first, he had disorganized thoughts of hurting Laurent’s uncle, who was no more than a vague shadow of man, someone he had seen only in photographs but had never met. Now his thoughts were clear, and directed towards someone much closer, someone he would have to talk to tomorrow, and smile at, and pretend that he didn't want to violently hurt him for not doing anything to stop his brother.

Suddenly, abruptly, Damen found soft hands on top of his fists, Laurent’s cool hands sharply cutting through Damen’s heated rage. Unbeknownst to him, Laurent had risen from his chair, and was crouched in front of him. As if trying to soothe a spooked child, Laurent said, "Damen, nothing happened to me. My uncle is locked up where he cannot hurt anyone. Auguste got there in time. Nothing happened to me."

Unbidden, unwanted, Damen thought: How can you be so sure? Auguste lied to you before. You just admitted you didn't remember anything. How can you be so sure this isn’t one final lie Auguste is protecting you with?

Then, gazing at the earnest look in Laurent’s eyes, Damen realized none of that mattered. It didn't matter if Auguste had completely come clean or if he was keeping this last layer of protection around his little brother. Laurent most certainly had the same thoughts, maybe had even voiced them to Auguste and received reassurances. What mattered was that he was telling Damen with surety in his voice that nothing had happened. This was what Laurent was going to believe, and so Damen would as well.

Damen took a deep breath and made himself relax. His fists unclenched and instead his fingers laced around Laurent's.

"Were you worried about how I would react?" Damen asked.

"A little," Laurent admitted.

 "The only thing it changes is how I look at your father," Damen said, his voice hard. "He is very lucky that he will not be crossing swords with me tomorrow."

Laurent removed his hands from Damen's and took a few steps towards the bedroom, putting space between them. "I've had many weeks to process what ultimately feels like a betrayal from my father, if only indirectly." A pause. Laurent was biting his lips. "It had to be misplaced loyalty  to his brother."

"Do you think Auguste would protect you, if you were doing something so heinous?" Damen countered, confident that the answer would be 'no.'

But Laurent looked thoughtful in a way that suggested he had already pondered that question, and was still thinking of his answer. "I think he would most certainly try, yes."

Damen was unsettled by the thought, not knowing where the line stood for himself, for Laurent, or for Kastor. He stood up to approach Laurent, who was standing in shadow near the window, looking out onto the clear, quiet night.

"Are you worried about this information coming to light?"

Laurent had an answer ready, like he had been thinking about this, too; he had been thinking of everything. "If word got out that King Aleron allowed his son, along with other young boys in the palace, to be sexually assaulted, but we were politically gridlocked from disclosing who… Guion would most definitely be able to use this as blackmail against my family for political gain. Not to mention the political unrest it would cause." 

"Surely your father could come clean now," Damen said. "Do away with the lies and tell the truth. That will ensure your uncle never leaves his cell, may even be transferred to a less nice one."

Laurent was as still as a statue, his lips pressed into a thin line. He was still looking unblinkingly out the window. "At the end of the day, my uncle was put away on a lie, and that alone is enough for him to petition for his release, and there is no way Guion wouldn’t ally with him to take advantage of unsettling the throne. Telling the truth would come at a cost, Damen. It would have then, and it would so now. Not everyone is willing to pay it."

"Laurent, piling lies on top of more lies will not solve anything."

Finally, Laurent turned his gaze to him, his eyes blazing. "My father, for years, knew but still turned a blind eye to the rape of young boys by his own brother. To tell the truth about my uncle would require my father to criminalize himself, then and now, not to mention dragging my name into the conversation, labeling me publicly, for the rest of my life and beyond, as a victim, something I will fight tooth and nail to avoid.

“Furthermore, Auguste was eighteen at the time. He was a first year in college. My father, even if he escaped imprisonment, would have had to abdicate, at the very least. Auguste, as heir, might have been forced to drop out of college. Maybe an Overseeing Council would have formed, or maybe my mother, a foreign Queen, would have ruled. It would have added further uncertainty on top of a massive scandal that would have shaken our country to its core, irrevocably."

Damen stopped himself before he took a step back, caught off-guard by the fire in Laurent's voice.  

"This isn't the same," Laurent continued, his voice beginning to sound labored after such a long speech, "as your father having an affair and fathering a bastard. The truth would ruin us. I have no respect for my father, but I see his wisdom in this decision. So do not suggest, carelessly, the truth be spoken, as if severe, irreparable consequences would not follow." With a deep breath, Laurent turned to face the window again, his hands clenching as he tried to regain control of himself.

Damen made himself not take offense at Laurent’s sharp words—he knew Laurent was lashing out because of his anger.

The brothers were at an impasse, Damen realized, one Laurent was counting on being maintained. If Laurent's uncle publicly insinuated the truth of the situation, Aleron would no longer have anything to lose by disclosing the identity of the perpetrator. On the other hand, if Aleron told the truth, while it would ensure his brother's continued imprisonment, it would almost certainly guarantee his own incarceration, and risk his youngest son's reputation.

Every fiber in Damen's being pushed for simplicity, to push for Aleron to declare the truth and face justice for his actions; or, rather, his inactions. Auguste was ready now to be King; he was old enough, in a stable relationship, no longer in school. Damen saw no need why Laurent's name, why any of the boys' names, need ever be mentioned. Except, almost assuredly, in the chaos of unearthing truths, Laurent’s name would be revealed.

There were many reasons to conceal the truth, but concealing it left the family open to blackmail and other vulnerabilities.

Damen was getting a headache.

He was sure of one thing, at least. "Laurent, you must know. I am with you, no matter what."

Damen sealed his promise with a kiss to Laurent's forehead. As Damen wrapped his arms around Laurent, slowly, some of the tension in Laurent's body drained away.

 -

There was a story Damen grew up with, his mother reading it to him before she became too sick, about an Akielon solider in the days of Queen Eradne. The soldier's name was Milonas, and he was no one important for most of his life, until one day during battle with the Veretians, he saved the Crown Prince's life. He was brave and courageous, his mother would say in her retelling, and risked his life for his Prince.

The Crown Prince was so grateful for this deed that Milonas was rewarded with a promotion, coins, and glory. Upon returning to Ios after the fateful battle, Milonas was invited to celebrate with the Akielon royal family as the guest of honor.

The Queen also had a daughter, Daphne, who was the apple of the Queen's eye. Daphne, as well as being beautiful with flowing dark hair and a bright smile, was also renowned for her intelligence and skill with a sword. The Queen took special attention to protect her from unworthy suitors, and longed always to have her daughter by her side.

Damen had been able to guess where the story was going since his first hearing, but he had always listened enraptured as his mother weaved the story together, hardly looking down at the book in her lap. It was probably her favorite, Damen came to realize.

Milonas, the young, common soldier who had saved the Prince's life, took one look at Daphne and fell instantly, madly in love. Daphne approached him like in a dream, her hair in dark curls around her head, to thank him for saving her brother's life, and Milonas could only stammer a reply before bowing to kiss her hand. Daphne spent the remainder of the evening with Milonas, trading stories and smiles, and Daphne fell in love with Milonas, as well. She felt for this common solider what she had never felt for anyone else before in her twenty-two years.

Milonas approached the Queen at the end of the celebration to ask permission to court Daphne, but the Queen refused. Milonas was a poor commoner, and the Queen saw him as nothing more than a brave soldier. Yes, he had saved the Queen's son, but no, he could not court the Princess.

Milonas returned to his post, and did not seen Daphne for an entire year.

Damen remembered feeling angry at Queen Eradne for keeping the lovers apart over something as silly as rank, and he swore to his mother he would never be that kind of king. His mother smiled kindly at him, ran her fingers through his hair, and continued telling him how Milonas got his chance at the next Akielon Games, where the Queen and Princess were in attendance.

Milonas, in an attempt to impress the Queen, won in archery, sword-fighting, and javelin throwing. His three wins allowed him the opportunity to challenge the Prince in wrestling, which he also won, to the shock of everyone in the stands. Then Milonas, as a proven athlete, competed in the _okton_ against the Prince and five other soldiers. His mother recounted how it was daring and difficult and Milonas almost had a spear thrown through his heart, but in the last second he dodged and threw his own spear and ended up with one more bulls-eye than the Prince. He had won even the _okton_ , the sport of Kings.

Milonas was awarded a crown of golden laurels as champion. Standing on the dais to receive the honor, he saw how worried the Princess was for him and also her relief from his victory. Milonas could see in her eyes how she missed him as much as he missed her.

Milonas, in a fit of daringness, took off the golden laurels and bowed before the Princess, prostrating himself, offering the laurels to his love. He announced that he fought for her, won for her, and to prove his love to the Queen and to his country. He stood to place the laurels on the head of Daphne, who, with love and adoration in her eyes, lowered her head to accept them. Milonas again bowed at her feet.

Everyone waited with bated breath to see how the Queen would react to this declaration. Finally, she stood from her throne and placed her hand on top of Milonas' head. She told him to rise, that he has proven himself to have the heart of a king, and declared she would no longer stand in the way of him courting her daughter, the Princess.

Damen's mother would then smile wickedly and pretend to pack up the book and begin to leave the room. Damen would jump from his bed to beg how it ended. Did they wed? Did the Queen truly approve? What about the Prince who was bested at the _okton_? Was he jealous?

Egeria would only grin widely at her son, a look of love settled deep and shining through, and say, "Of course they wedded. They lived the rest of their lives together, happy and in love."

It was an old story, one not popularized outside of Akielos, but it was one of Damen's favorites, as it always reminded him of his mother.

-

The day dawned warm and bright. It was perfect weather for the Royal Games, and Damen felt the excitement from the promise of sports thrumming in his veins. Vask had won the regular Games, with two more gold metals than Akielos. Aloisa was the first to mention it to him that morning, and with a smirk she quipped that Damen better be ready at sword-fighting later. She and her sister, Sonya, as well as more of their sisters and aunts, and a few uncles, intended to maintain the Vaskian lead.

Damen accepted the teasing, but stayed focused on his own plans. It wasn't unheard of for a royal to best in five categories, but it wasn't common.

Laurent came up to him and they knocked shoulders. "Five categories this year, Damianos, really?"

Damen shrugged and feigned ignorance. "Oh, is it five? I just wanted the challenge this year."

Laurent rolled his eyes as they moved from the palace to the fields where they would be competing. The hum of excitement underneath his skin had Damen practically bouncing. Wrestling was first, and he was competing.

Wrestling was no longer performed in the nude, and this time Damen knew it _was_ because of the Veretians and their ridiculous sensibilities. Instead, they wore shorts so tight that Damen knew it didn't leave much to the imagination, so what was the point?

After dressing, he saw that the stands were already full of governmental officials, various elected leaders, citizens who had bought tickets, and athletes who had competed in the regular Games. The stands were unusually full for such an early morning competition.

He looked up to the royal box for the Veretian royal family and first saw Queen Hennike with dramatically raised eyebrows. Auguste was covering his mouth with his hand, and Laurent was red-faced, harking back to the last Games, except this time he wasn’t hiding his face or the appreciative looks he was sending Damen's way. Aleron wasn't anywhere Damen could see, and Damen didn't look too hard for him.

Damen hid a smile as he was covered in oil for his first match against his brother, which he won easily enough. It ended up being him against Pallas for gold, but Damen was exhilarated and ready, bouncing with energy. For a few seconds as the final match commenced, he lost himself to the satisfying sensation of tensed muscles, the use of strength and not holding himself back against a worthy opponent. Damen and Pallas, although both serious about winning, were also grinning in enjoyment to the game. Damen got one good hold over Pallas and didn't let up. His first gold.

When Damen reached his personal dressing room to shower and clean up, he found someone already inside. Laurent must have slipped out of the stands while Damen was waving to the crowd of well-wishers. Damen had never realized so many women were interested in wrestling before.

Laurent was sitting on a bench in the room, his eyes dark, legs crossed in a parody of poise. "That was even more torturous than when I was fifteen," he said, but it came out more like a declaration.

Damen wanted to stay focused on his goal, didn't want to get distracted, but realized that was a lost cause as soon as he saw Laurent in the room. 

"Oh, I don't know," Damen replied. "This year you can do something about it."

Laurent pushed off from the bench and crowded Damen, who was still covered in oil and dirt, against the door. Laurent stood on the tips of his toes, and covered Damen's lips with his. Damen's hands went immediately to Laurent's ass, hoisting him and crouching down; their kisses becoming deeper and wetter as their height equalized. Laurent, reaching behind Damen, locked the door.

Damen didn't know what Laurent had in mind, but Laurent seemed to; he reached to pull down Damen's ridiculous shorts.

"Why even bother with the shorts," Laurent complained against Damen's lips. "It's not like they hide anything."

"It was your country that mandated it," Damen replied, biting Laurent's lips gently.

"They're just a tease," Laurent continued, ignoring Damen.

Damen kicked the shorts away from him and stood, naked, in front of a fully clothed Laurent. He licked his lips, and felt himself get harder.

Laurent dropped to his knees and Damen forced himself to not make any assumptions as he simultaneously, desperately, wondered what to do with his hands. Laurent had done this a few times before, but was still discovering what he liked Damen to do while he was sucking Damen's cock.

Looking up, Laurent said, "You can put your hands in my hair, but no pushing."

Damen, who still couldn’t believe this was happening, just nodded. Then all coherent thought left him as Laurent's tongue darted to tease his already leaking tip.

Laurent was still inexperienced. He took his time, and was teasing and warm and wet and unselfconscious. He gripped the base of Damen's cock and began to take as much of Damen in his mouth as he could, the wet heat of his mouth encasing. Damen's hands cautiously moved to rest in Laurent's hair, making sure, through the haze of pleasure, he didn't pull or push, or command in any way.  He threw his head back against the door as Laurent began finding his rhythm. Laurent could only take about half of Damen's cock, but was moving his hand in time with his mouth, his tongue pressing against the underside.

In a pathetic amount of time, Damen found himself warning Laurent. "I'm— Laurent, I'm about to—"

Laurent removed his mouth and stood up, catching Damen's lips as his hand worked solo, moving fast and brutal against Damen's cock. Damen could taste himself on Laurent's tongue, and that knowledge is what brought him over, spilling into Laurent's hand.

Quick as a flash, still reeling from his own orgasm, Damen flipped them and quickly succeeded in undoing Laurent's pants. Laurent was achingly hard, hard from what he'd been doing, hard from sucking Damen off. Damen's look up from his knees was rewarded with a quirk of Laurent's eyebrow, as if he were saying, _And so?_

With a grin, Damen took Laurent into his mouth, relishing the taste and feel of him, and began sucking in earnest. Damen was not teasing, but conquering, unrelenting. Laurent was softly groaning above him. Damen took one of Laurent's hands and placed it on his head. Taking the hint, Laurent weaved his fingers through his hair. When Damen deep-throated him, the hand unconsciously tightened, and Damen groaned, loving it. Laurent thrust his hips in response, then, when Damen backed up to catch his breath and cough, immediately started apologizing before Damen could stop him.

"If you want," Damen said, his voice husky, "if you want to, you can." He placed Laurent's hand back on his head, then took Laurent into his opened mouth, resting Laurent's cock against his tongue, and then stilled. It was too much for Laurent, who looked down at him and groaned, loudly, "Damen," and then came.

Damen happily swallowed. He quickly rinsed himself of the oil still on his body as Laurent cleaned himself off. They redressed, twin grins on their faces.

"Are you going to do that after every gold I win?" Damen joked.

Laurent was looking into the mirror, using his fingers to comb through his hair. He gave a side-long glance at Damen, his eyebrow quirked. "I'll just say I have been fantasizing about doing that for a long time. It only applied to wrestling, sorry."

Damen came up behind him and looked at their reflection in the mirror, hands at his waist. "Any time you want to fulfill your sexual fantasies, just let me know."

Laurent smirked. "You may live to regret that."

But Damen was already shaking his head. "Not a chance."

-

While they had been occupied, Aloisa won gold in archery, besting a minor royal from Vere, and soon it was time for Damen's second match of the day, spear-throwing.

As he promised Torveld, he had been practicing, and quickly rose through the rounds until it was him versus Torveld, who had won in this category at the Games before. The competition was about distance and aim, and each competitor was given three throws, their totals summed and averaged. By two points, Damen emerged as victor, securing his second gold.

Damen knew better than to try and compete in horseback riding. Sure enough, on speed, jumping, and eventing, the win went to Laurent, who easily scored higher than any of the other competitors.

The next sport Damen competed in was a watered-down version of the ancient sport of _okton_ , where competitors threw spears from a moving horse, but now without the added difficulty of other competitors on the field. Laurent was also competing in this, and Damen let out a sigh of relief when in the final round it was Sonya from Vask against him. He was prepared to beat his lover to ensure his plan succeeded, but it would have been potentially awkward. As it was, he was so distracted by his relief he almost lost, but right at the end scored one more bulls-eye than Sonya. His third gold.

As they broke for lunch, his father came up to him and congratulated him on his wins so far. Laurent looked at him shrewdly and asked what he was trying to prove, doing so well. Auguste told him to leave some gold for the rest of them.

Damen didn't feel too bad, as the next two games, target shooting and swimming, both went to Auguste, as well as fencing, which had been held before lunch. Auguste was now resting until sword-fighting, while Damen prepared for his fourth competition, the discus throw. Like wrestling, it was a sport he naturally excelled at due to his strength, and Louis, from Vere, did not stand a chance. After his fourth gold, Damen could barely contain himself. He also went to rest as the remaining sports were held. He watched Torveld win at tennis, and Kastor at boxing.

The last sporting event of the day was sword-fighting because it was the crowning jewel of the Royal Games. Last year in the final, Damen barely lost to Auguste, but this year he needed to win against him and secure his fifth gold.

The only way to win a golden laurel was to win gold in five sports, and already some were speculating if that's what Damen was aiming for. Let them speculate, Damen thought, for they'd never guess what he wanted to win it _for_.

There were eight competitors to begin, two from each country. Princess Aloisa was the first to face Damen, and Damen learned quickly that if he underestimated her, he'd actually lose. She was quick on her feet with surprising strength, but the victory still went to Damen. Aloisa's older sister Sonya secured her position in the next round by overcoming Torveld, while Auguste's match against a minor Patran royal was quick, but cordial.

The most important first round match was between Kastor and Laurent. Damen remembered his words to his brother the night he found out about Kastor's impending fatherhood, and Kastor had thrown them back in his face earlier when he'd seen the line-up. Kastor was broad, athletic, and experienced, even if considerably older than Laurent. This was Laurent's first Games, and Damen had seen him fight before, but was worried his boast from months ago had been spoken more out of anger and less in truth.

Looking at the stands, Theomedes didn't look worried, already considering this match a win for his oldest son, while the King and Queen of Vere were attempting to hide their concern. The only person who looked on without concern was Auguste, which Damen took as a good sign, and went to stand by him as the match started.

Kastor began the match the same way Damen did against Aloisa, confident in his victory. Kastor was physically stronger than Laurent, but Laurent matched him with his sword, his face stoic and calculating. Kastor thought he'd already won, while Laurent was cataloguing Kastor's moves and adjusting his own lighter stance to accommodate them. Eventually, in less time than Damen expected, the match fell from Kastor's favor and into Laurent's. Kastor would swing, sure of his aim, to find that Laurent had maneuvered swiftly around, and force Kastor to rebalance himself quickly or lose. It also didn't help that Kastor was getting angry. It was an emotion that Laurent was good at inciting, and then controlling.

Damen couldn't take his eyes off of Laurent, the way he moved effortlessly, light on his feet, fast and efficient in his strokes.  He expertly knew how to handle a stronger opponent and use his opponent's strength to his own advantage. In the longest match of the first round, victory went to Laurent.

Damen could see Kastor struggling against stomping off the field to lick his wounds in private, but shook Laurent's hand all the same. Theomedes was looking down at the two of them with shrewd eyes, and Damen could tell he was reevaluating a previously held belief.

The second round began with Damen against Sonya. If he hadn't previously fought Aloisa, he would have begun the match overconfident, but now he knew better than to presume the Daughters of the Vaskian Empire couldn't hold their own in sword-fighting. It was a tough match, but it ended with Sonya's sword thrown from her hand and Damen securing a place in the final match.

Then it was brother against brother, as Auguste squared off against Laurent. Laurent had rested after his taxing match against Kastor and seemed elevated from the win. His long hair was in a Veretian braid as he faced his new competitor, this time with a slight smile.

It was immediately apparent that they had been trained by the same master; Laurent obviously trying to emulate his older brother in his own training. Auguste had the advantage there; Laurent always seeming to get stuck a move behind, in the defensive. Laurent was still quicker, forcing Auguste to choose his moves sooner than he was ready, and Laurent was adept at taking advantage of that. In the end, it was the older brother who prevailed, and Laurent took his loss gracefully.

Damen, without thinking, walked to where Laurent was putting away his sword and placed a hand behind his neck, feeling the messy braid, and pulled Laurent into a passionate kiss. Damen barely heard, and only dimly acknowledged, the flash of cameras going off. Laurent was kissing back, his hands having come to rest on Damen's cheeks.

"You look so beautiful; so dangerous and graceful," Damen finally said, after tearing his lips away. They were wrapped in their own cocoon, their faces close, breathing the same air as the  four kingdoms watched on.

"Now you know how I felt, watching you wrestle with all those muscles _literally_ glistening in my face," Laurent whispered back.

It was hard after that not to kiss him again. It wasn't to prove anything; this time it was because Damen couldn't help himself.

Damen took Laurent's affection as good luck wishes, even if they weren't. Laurent moved back to the sidelines as Damen and Auguste faced each other for the second time, swords grasped in their hands.

All Damen could think was that he had to win this time. It all came down to this final match.

Auguste moved first, and Damen quickly countered, taking note of his changing footwork, comparing it to their last match and adjusting. Damen struck next, to see what Auguste would do, which direction he'd turn, which side of his body would take the brunt of Damen's strength. Auguste was better than he'd been five years ago, but so was Damen.

It was hard, sometimes, to imagine what it would've been like centuries ago, when Vere and Akielos were still enemies and Kings led men into battle. Damen thought this was as close as they got to that time, and was thankful, again, that they weren't true enemies, weren't fighting to the death, or for land or riches; just glory and the right to brag for the next five years.

Damen fought just as hard, considered all the other sports he'd played as a warm-up to this, knowing from the beginning that it would come down to the two of them.

By now they were both sweating and breathing heavily, finding themselves well-matched, unable to get an advantage over the other as they moved like they were dancing.

And then Damen saw it; an opening. He took the risk that it wasn't a feint, and moved against Auguste’s side, the quick thrust of his sword knocking Auguste off-balance. Another quick twist of his blade and Auguste's sword flew out of his hands to the other side of the playing field.

He had won. Damen had won.

He dropped his sword and held out his hand for Auguste, who had fallen back in exhaustion, pulling him up with a wide grin on his face.

"You got lucky," Auguste said good-naturedly, clapping him on the back.

Damen responded, "So did you, last time."

And then it was happening, what he had planned for over a year was finally happening. His father was crowning him with the golden laurels for his five wins. He took in the applause and glory, smiling proudly as the cameras flashed and people cheered. He let it fill up his lungs, breathing it in, tasting the victory.

Then he took a deep breath and stepped off the dais. His eyes immediately sought out and caught Laurent's, who looked at him with confusion. As Damen continued towards him with long determined strides, Laurent’s face emptied of any expression.

The buzz of the crowd was getting louder, but when Damen knelt on one knee before Laurent and took off his crown of golden laurels, it was only the Akielons who gasped.

Camera crew rushed to follow him, wondering what crazy act he was attempting.

This close, Damen could see Laurent's lips quivering in an effort to maintain his stoicism. Damen remembered, as he looked up into clear blue eyes, that over a year ago Laurent had read this story for his Akielon history course, had called Milonas stupid, questioning if winning at sports could somehow prove someone's love; said Akielons were easily impressed with fancy sword-waving and large muscles.

"Laurent," Damen started. His mouth was dry, his tongue thick; he had to try again. The audience was silent, the shining lights bright and hot against the dark sky. His heart was pounding so loud he was surprised it wasn't reverberating through the crowd, beating through the loudspeakers. "Prince Laurent of Vere, today I win for you. The five competitions are only a fraction of the adversities I am willing to face to earn your favor. You are stubborn and loyal, clever and strong, and I will gladly spend the rest of my life earning your affections. I am Damianos, Crown Prince of Akielos, and I offer this up to you."

Damen felt like Milonas, waiting for his fate, hardly breathing. Is this what the soldier felt, then? Apprehension, fear, and excitement as the adrenaline pumped through his veins? Damen began to worry. Was this too much? Too public? Laurent, who always preferred to stand behind-the-scenes, was being brought forward unwittingly into the spotlight. Had Damen miscalculated this move, this last act of courtship, by publicly declaring himself?

Then, slowly, after what felt like an eternity but was only a few seconds in reality, his breaths intentionally steady, Laurent lowered his head. Elated, Damen stood and placed the crown of golden laurels atop Laurent's still braided hair. Damen’s hands fell to rest on Laurent's shoulders; he could feel his wildly fluttering pulse. When Laurent finally looked up at him again, his eyes were wide and guileless, making him appear exactly like the young man he was.

The crowd was cheering around them, the non-Akielons having been brought on board as to what was happening.

Laurent kept his eyes on Damen, bright and alive.

Damen had never seen him more beautiful.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life got busy fast for both [Sara](http://sarabelium.tumblr.com/) and I, and we apologize for the massive delay in this chapter. 
> 
>  
> 
> [Come say hi!](http://americancupsofbritishtea.tumblr.com/)


	5. Summer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full disclosure: [Sara](http://sarabelium.tumblr.com/) and I live on opposite ends of the eastern seaboard of the United States, and the climate and weather of southern Akielos/Isthima is inspired by Miami, Florida: hot and humid, where Veretians (and New Yorkers) struggle to breathe, but where I could stay roasting and toasting all day.

It was oppressively hot, every inch of his skin warmed too much to be wholly comfortable, sweat beginning to gather at his brow, despite him only standing, and Damen loved it. He breathed in deep and tasted the salt from the ocean; felt the thickness of the humidity in the air and the sea breeze as it ran over his body, cooling his skin, damp from sweat. His eyes were closed as he just stood in the sand, and felt the gentle ocean waves lap at his feet as he sunk in, the sun shining too brightly on his face.

Opening his eyes with a hand held over his face to shield his vision from the sun, he could see a storm developing over the ocean. A twinge of excitement shot through his body at the prospect of loud thunder and bright lightning illuminating their bedroom tonight.

He turned around to the shore with a grin on his face.

Laurent, unlike Damen who was only wearing swim shorts, was wearing a loose tank top, contrasting the short and fitting dark blue trunks that showed off his long, pale legs, and clung to him attractively. He was completely covered by the shade of a large umbrella they had perched in the sand, laying on a large beach towel, resting on his elbows. Laurent's eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses, but it was still obvious to Damen that he was being lazily and unabashedly checked out

Damen, in his quest to help Laurent fall madly in love with everything Akielos had to offer, had taken Laurent to Isthima to celebrate his recent graduation and be alone for a few days with no other responsibilities or princely duties. Damen would admit now, on their first day here, that he had not wholly thought through the logistics of his pale-skinned lover from a dry northern country in a hot and humid southern beach.

Damen sat down next to Laurent under the umbrella and dug his wet feet further into the sand, enjoying the feel of it as he wiggled his toes. For a moment, he quietly basked in the uncomplicated, pure happiness derived from having Laurent near him. The ocean was smooth today, for now, the waves gentle and calm.

"Auguste is having the time of his life right now, I hope you know," Laurent said, amused, breaking the quiet.

Damen leaned back on his hands to look over at him. His smile seemed permanent. "Why is that?"

"You don't remember?" Laurent teased, acting unsurprised at Damen's confusion. "The first time we ever saw each other was on this private stretch of beach."

Ah, right, Damen thought. "Yes," he said, laughing easily. "You were, what, six? You were wearing ridiculous, bright green swim shorts. Neon green. I think they glowed!"

Laurent retorted, "I was seven, thank you." Then, with a slight pause as if unsure to divulge this information, he added, "And they did in fact glow in the dark. They also had cupcakes on them." He sounded scandalized, as if finally he'd been given to chance to voice the travesty he felt at being forced to wear something so unfashionable. "Auguste picked them out because Auguste thinks he's funny, and he was clearly given too much leeway in my upbringing." Laurent shook his head in quiet laughter, looking over at Damen. "You waved at us and I thought you were very strange."

Damen sighed, a little lost in the memory, his smile still edging his lips. "I remember being jealous of you and Auguste. I had to go to that boring gala with the adults, and all I wanted to do was join you guys on the beach."

They fell into another easy silence, both remembering. Damen thought about all that had changed from them almost meeting to now.

"That doesn't explain why Auguste is laughing at you," Damen said.

At that, Laurent laid down, stretching his arms until his fingers touched the edge of the towel. For a moment, Damen forgot they were having a conversation, and fixated on Laurent's left nipple that peeked from the edge of his loose tank top.

Laurent seemed not to have noticed Damen's distraction. He said, "I got so badly burnt from that trip I actually swore to Auguste and my mother that I'd never return to Akielos." He looked back over at Damen with a small smile. Damen wished he could see his eyes. "As you can see," Laurent continued, his face pinking slightly, "that hasn’t quite worked out for me. So when I told Auguste you were taking me to Isthima to celebrate, he just started laughing and I don't think he's stopped yet."

Damen leaned over and settled a quick, chaste kiss to Laurent's shoulder, then slipped his hand under Laurent’s tank top to tease the distracting nipple, with a grin. As he still often did when showed quiet acts of affection, Laurent flushed deeper, and struggled against a self-satisfied smile. If Damen had his way, Laurent would never leave Akielos again except to visit his family, of course, and Laurent seemed to be thinking the same. There was a reason Damen wanted to show Laurent the best of Akielos.

Damen was growing cold in the shade, though, and was eager to return to the sun's warmth. He stood up carefully, making sure sand did not get on the blanket. "Will you at least come into the ocean with me? Just for a little bit? The water's warm."

"The sun does not shine kindly on me as it does on you," Laurent said, but he was pushing himself up from the towel, reaching behind himself to remove his shirt and drop it on the towel. Damen trailed the movements of his arms, his long legs. "You will no doubt brown pleasantly under the sun without any form of protection, whereas I will burn, and then peel unattractively for weeks." Then, with a mischievous grin and sideways glance, "I have plans for our trip here that would be completely derailed if I can't lay on my back comfortably."

Damen looked at him in shock, his eyes widening at the suggestion. When he met Laurent's confirming gaze, he smirked, and pushed down his over-eagerness. "I wouldn't figure you to be so unimaginative in the bedroom," he teased, proud that his voice remained level. "There are many positions that wouldn't involve you on your back at all. I could take you on your hands and knees, for instance, or press you up against a wall, or you could be on top, or laying on your stomach…" Damen trailed off as it was Laurent's turn to be startled.

Damen ended up revealing himself with his flushed face, and his failed attempt to contain his smile. Laurent finally stopped gapping at Damen's brazenness, and said, "Who said anything about you fucking me?"

"I was talking about all the ways I could rim you," Damen lied, proud of his quick rebuttal. "What were _you_ talking about?"

Laurent flushed, then steeled his features. "I _do_ want you to fuck me tonight."  

Damen thought Laurent would continue their verbal sparring at least a few more rounds, but wasn’t displeased at the forthrightness. The air suddenly seemed heavier, and charged. Damen broke eye contact briefly to reach for the sunscreen lotion. "Let's make sure you don't burn, then."

Laurent, pleased, took a few steps closer and then turned around to bare his back, tying his long hair into a short, messy ponytail over his shoulder. "That's the idea."

Before smoothing the lotion on the pale skin in front of him, Damen pressed soft kisses behind Laurent's ear, on his neck, the top knob of his spine. Instinctively, Laurent arched his neck, and Damen answered the silent command.

Damen smiled into the soft skin between Laurent's shoulder and neck as Laurent's body shook with silent laughter. "We could always skip the ocean," Laurent suggested. "Go straight to the bedroom."

Damen did seriously think about it, but then pulled back, and started rubbing the smelly lotion over Laurent's bare skin. "Nope. Everyone is in need of a good beach day, even pale Veretians." Especially pale Veretians who are moving to Ios, Damen didn't say. They would probably have to stock up on the sunscreen.

Laurent was actually pouting, which Damen thought was adorable, but had enough self-preservation not to say. Once he was entirely—overwhelmingly—smothered in lotion, Laurent began marching towards the waves crashing on the shore. "Let's see this ocean, then, which is apparently more enticing than me."

But before Laurent could get far enough way, Damen threw the sunscreen down onto the blanket and jogged towards him, picking him up from behind. Laurent did his perfunctory squirm before settling in to be carried to the water. They both rather liked it when Damen picked Laurent up; Laurent liked Damen's strength, and Damen liked showing it off.

"Think of it like this," Damen said, "you're my favorite person, the beach is my favorite place, and this is the first time I've had the two of you together." Damen looked out at the growing dark clouds over the horizon. "Plus, that's looking to be an amazing storm for us tonight!"

Laurent just started laughing, but to Damen's ears it sounded humorless and a little self-deprecating. It could have been the weird angle as Damen's ear was pressed against Laurent's back. "Right. Thunderstorms. Akielos is _perfect_."

Damen ran them into the cool water, as Laurent shielded his face from the saltwater. "I think so!" Damen declared.

They stayed out on the beach for hours and Laurent did not, in fact, burn.

-

"After all that talk this afternoon, and I'm on my back."

Laurent was looking up at Damen with challenge in his eyes, and Damen wanted to retort that they could change positions, but then saw the comment for what it was.

"Are you nervous?" Damen asked.

"I'm allowed to be a little nervous," Laurent replied defensively. "That doesn't mean I don't want it."

"Do you still want to have sex with me?" Damen checked for the second time in the last hour.

"Yes," Laurent said.

"Right now? Right this moment?"

"Yes, Damen," Laurent repeated.

Damen was on top of Laurent, holding himself up by his arms, looking down at Laurent steadily, watching for any signs that would suggest something contrary to Laurent's words. He was pleased to find only exasperation, and was sure that he could change that around quick enough.

They had spent approximately the last thirty minutes preparing Laurent, Damen using his tongue, his fingers, and the dildo, and Laurent had already come once. Laurent was hard again, his cock jutting in the air.

"I'm being very patient with you, Damen," Laurent said, his voice a little strained. The amount of preparation had mostly been Damen's idea. "But it seems I am not above begging. Do I need to ask if _you're_ sure you want to do this?"

"No," Damen said, his heart pounding. "No, I want to. I want this."

"As do I. So please. Do it."

When still Damen hesitated, Laurent sighed and pushed himself up until their lips met. "You seem more nervous than me," Laurent said quietly against his lips. Damen fell into the familiarity, following Laurent down until his body covered Laurent's; their lips, chests, legs, cocks pressed together.

"It's different, with you," Damen admitted.

Laurent leaned back to give him a severe look. "Don’t do me the dishonor of thinking of past lovers right now, please."

Damen inhaled sharply.

"You can't have forgotten how to do it," Laurent said, teasing now. HIs hand worked its way between their bodies until it wrapped around Damen's cock. "I know it's been some time for you, but the mechanics are quite the same as they were then."

His body seemed to curl around where Laurent's cool hands were touching him, his thumb pressing at his slit. Instead of answering, apropos to nothing, Damen gasped, "I love you."  

Laurent's face softened, although he still looked a little exasperated. "And I you. That's why I want to have sex with you. I am literally open and wanting. I am not sure I could be more prepared than I am right now." Laurent squirmed until, Damen still in his hand, he directed the tip of Damen's cock to tease against the wet edge of Laurent's opening. They both gasped at the tease, locking eyes.

Damen became resolved, needing this now more than the ridiculous nerves he felt. He wanted more than anything to give Laurent what he wanted, and to make it good for him. In what felt like no time, Damen's cock was encased in a condom, smothered in more lube, and then pressing into Laurent. For his own sake as well as Laurent's, Damen entered slowly, taking his time to enjoy the heat of Laurent surrounding him so completely, Laurent sweetly opening for him below with quiet gasps, his thighs widening around Damen's body. Damen saw Laurent’s hands above his head, his knuckles white as he squeezed the sheets beneath him, his mouth open.

When Damen had fully entered, he stilled, and asked, "Are you okay?"

Laurent licked his lips and crooked a pale eyebrow. "Are you?"

Taking that as a challenge, Damen began shallow movements that served more to tease them both, his hips rocking gently. Laurent's head fell back against the pillow, his Adam's apple sharp, and Damen leaned down to draw his tongue over it, not stopping his movements. Laurent groaned, and Damen felt himself glow with pride. He leaned back up and his hands fell to Laurent's hips, pushing in harder now to elicit more sounds from Laurent. Laurent's body arched and seemed to take Damen in deeper, and Damen heard himself moan, his hands tightening. He held back the urge to take total control of Laurent's own movements and, lest he bruise his lover, moved to rest his hands above Laurent's head. He leaned down, his elbows at a strange angle, so their lips could touch. Laurent immediately opened beneath him, wrapping his legs around Damen's waist, and rocked his body to pull Damen in further.

They were moving in tandem, in unison, seeking pleasure in each other. Damen's hand jerked to curl into Laurent's, and Laurent held back tightly, as if he didn't know he was doing it, shuddering beneath him. Damen's other hand found Laurent's cock.

Damen realized he'd been speaking unchecked, in his own tongue, when normally they spoke Veretian together. "Laurent," he gasped. "You feel so good. I have wanted you for so long."  

"Yes," Laurent answered, in Veretian, and it felt like a confession. His face was flushed, his head to the side, his eyes closed, as if to use his other senses would detract from the pleasure he was feeling; pleasure Damen was giving him.

Laurent came first, crying out, spilling over Damen's hand and his chest. A few hard thrusts later, Damen joined him in orgasm, and did his best effort not to fall entirely on top of him.

After they took a few moments to catch their breath, Damen flung himself to lay beside Laurent in bed.

"Does it always feel like this?" Laurent asked, looking over at him, his eyes bright. He hadn't moved and his hair was sprawled on behind him. He looked pleased and Damen tried to curb his own satisfied smile.

Damen shook his head, and felt the honesty of his answer. "No, never. Not for me. Not like— not like this."

Laurent pushed him slightly, bashful. "You're just saying that."

Damen took his hand and kissed it, on the palm. He shook his head. "I've never actually—" he said, and he could feel himself flush, "with someone I love." Damen began kissing along Laurent's checks, following the blush that was spreading there. "That's what was different," he whispered against soft skin.

Laurent's blush deepened, preemptive of his words. "I'm glad it was you," he murmured. Then he took a deep breath and moved out of the bed, crawling over Damen in the process. "You did an exemplary job, but for the nervousness in the beginning, I’m knocking your score. Let's agree… seven out of ten?"

Damen watched him retreat into the bathroom, his eyebrows raised in mock-shock. "Oh, is that so? Just a seven?"

Naked, Laurent leaned causally against the bathroom door, his arms crossed, looking at Damen with a teasing smirk. "You were adequate, but I think by the end of this week we can work your score up to a ten."

Before his last words, Damen had already gotten out of bed himself. "No, absolutely not. We're reaching a ten before the end of this _day_."

Laurent's laughter followed them into the bathroom and just as Damen closed the door, the first sound of thunder could be heard.

-

The next three days were like a glorious dream. Damen woke Laurent the following morning with soft kisses along his neck, his hands exploratory and light. Laurent smiled and seemed to lean into him like a flower into sunlight. Laurent had been particularly close the night before, and Damen maintained that closeness until their stomachs demanded they leave the bedroom.

With a mischievous smirk, Laurent walked out of the room without putting anything on, and Damen felt an answering tug on his lips, following him out and enjoying the view.

They spent their days at the private stretch of beach right outside the house, where sometimes Damen went for a swim and Laurent read on the patio, or sometimes they brought food back upstairs and didn't leave the bedroom until well into the afternoon with both of them sated. In the evening, they would watch a movie until they both grew bored and simply rested close to each other on the couch, often by that point deciding to move back outside to listen to the quiet pulse of the ocean beating against the shore.

They found themselves sharing stories from their childhood. Damen gained further evidence that Laurent as a child had Auguste completely wrapped around his finger—when racing ponies, Auguste had always let Laurent win. Damen seemed to take it as a matter of fact, figuring there had a been a lot of letting Laurent win in his childhood, but Laurent grumbled that he hadn't liked it, and always liked to earn his victories. Damen countered to say that when he and Kastor were teenagers, they went through a phase in which they kept trying to sabotage each other's saddles so they'd fall off their horses. Eventually, while riding with their father, they'd both fallen, right into some mud, and upon figuring out what they’d done, Theomedes had been extremely displeased with them.

Damen laughed, but Laurent frowned. "Tell me a positive story about your father," he requested, his head leaned back against Damen's chest, looking out towards the ocean.

Damen was drawn up short for a moment, but then quietly shared that after Damen's mother died, Theomedes had been devastated. Citing he wanted to take Damen on his first hunting trip, his father left Kastor behind in Ios, and they went to Delpha for a week. Damen had been only five years old, but remembered they hadn't hunted at all, his father disclosing quietly he hadn't wanted Kastor to see him cry. Instead, the trip was spent visiting Egeria's favorite nature spots in the area, including a beautiful waterfall.

Damen's throat felt rough as he finished, and he blamed the salty air. Laurent was quiet, but before it grew awkward, he said, "I told my mother once that I thought my father hated me." Damen was startled to hear Laurent talk about his father, knowing that relationship to be complicated. "It was actually," Laurent continued, "during my first trip to Isthima." Damen closed his eyes and left Laurent's soft voice wash over him. "My mother must have told him, because a few weeks after the trip, he took me to a planetarium. He had the entire facility closed just for us, and we spent all day there, including the adjacent science museum. He probably would rather have spent it with Auguste at a sporting event." Laurent laughed humorlessly, and Damen's arms tightened around him. "But I appreciate it now for the effort that it was."

Damen opened and closed his mouth several times, weighing his words, not quiet knowing what to say, but in the end, decided not to say anything.

The next night they forewent stories, and instead Laurent pointed out constellations in the sky as Damen braided his hair, over and over again until he got it right, finally, with a triumphant shout.

Their presence at Isthima had been noted in the local media, as well as their lack of presence amongst the town. Laurent laughed as he brought up a local news story about the "holed up princes," and wondered aloud if it was meant to be a pun. In fact, Damen found it rather difficult to care about going into town when he could have Laurent underneath him, lazily mapping lines along his skin with his tongue. After love-making, Laurent had the unforeseen desire to lounge in bed, and he'd spent some time leaning over Damen, languidly drawing with his fingertips.

Damen, his head resting back on his crossed arms, thought he recognized the latest doodle, although no marks had been made on his skin. The Veretian family crest.

"Should I get a tattoo?" Damen teased, meeting Laurent's eyes.

Laurent's eyes darkened, and his breath hitched.

Damen looked at him a little incredulously. "You'd like that. What should I get? Your name?"

"Don't tempt me," Laurent said instead of answering, his voice almost unrecognizable. "You have no idea how enticing it would be to brand you, to leave a permanent mark on your skin that signified you as mine."

Damen felt himself shiver with pleasure, and tucked the idea away.

On another afternoon, they had just finished in a bedroom upstairs overlooking the ocean, Laurent riding on top, when Damen brought up what he felt needed to be said before it went unsaid for too long. It had been on his mind for months.

"You know, I've actually—never—before. But I would with you. That is, I mean to say, I want to with you."

Laurent's eyes squinted as he looked at Damen as if he'd spoken a language he couldn't understand. "What are you talking about?"

"I mean, about switching—positions. I'm talking about you taking me. In case it was on your mind, or something."

Laurent's eyes widened in shock, but admitted, "It's been on my mind."

"I'm just letting you know," Damen said, "you'd be my first, too. And I want that with you."

Laurent leaned down to kiss him, hard, as if overcome with desire and then they kept kissing until their lips were sore.

-

On the fourth morning, Damen woke up especially early to get the day in motion. As he cooked breakfast, he went through the mental checklist of everything he had planned for the day.  He was considering this a late anniversary gift, and couldn't wait to take Laurent all over the city.

He was lucky Laurent tended to sleep in when the opportunity arose for him to do so. When Damen brought up the tray, carefully as to not spill the coffee, Laurent was still sleeping deeply on his stomach. Damen smiled endearingly as he noticed Laurent's slightly opened mouth, his drool on the pillow, and his hair like a bird's nest, his face soft and relaxed.

Damen set the tray to the side and slid back into bed next to Laurent, pressing kisses along his neck in the hopes of gently waking him. Laurent started smiling, and moved his neck lazily to allow Damen better access.

"Good morning," Damen mumbled against his skin. "I made breakfast."

Laurent stretched languidly and saw the tray. "Breakfast in bed?"

"Mmhmm," Damen hummed. "And then I have an entire day planned for us."

Damen moved the food so it was sitting in front of them, and they started eating, Laurent rather slowly as he shook the last tendrils of sleep away.

"You're making us leave the house today?" Laurent mumbled. Then, he made the most endearing little noise as he bit into the flaky pastry. “Did you make this?" It was warm, straight from the oven.

Damen dipped his piece in honey and nodded. "Yes, to both."

Laurent was now eating a piece of salami, seeming to sample a bit of everything in front of him. "I didn't know you could bake."

Damen shrugged. "If breakfast foods count, which I'm not sure it does."

"Of course it counts, now you can cook for me every morning." Laurent had moved on to a piece of milk pie. "What other surprises do you have in store for today?"

Damen added honey and fruit to his yogurt. "They wouldn't be surprises if I told you. It's a combined graduation and anniversary present."

"Are you sure I can't convince you that I'd rather stay in bed all day," Laurent asked, attempting to look at Damen through his eyelashes and spoon honey straight into his mouth on his outstretched tongue at the same time. He was making a mess.

Damen took a strawberry and ran it along the honey dipper still in Laurent's hand. "Yes, I'm sure."

"I guess it isn't as sexy if I spill it all over myself," Laurent said, finding the napkins ineffective against the sticky sweet honey.

"That's the innuendo you were going for?"

"It was," Laurent answered, "but honey doesn't work as well as I thought it would." Laurent's face turned cunning. "We could always switch it out for chocolate sauce."

Instead of replying, Damen took note of the rather alarming amount of honey going into Laurent's yogurt. Laurent took notice of Damen taking notice and sent him a look.

"I don't owe an explanation to you," he said, but gave one anyway. "I'm fond of Akielon honey."

Damen grinned. "That's at least one thing of Akielos you're fond of."

Laurent shoved him playfully. "I'm not going to say what you want to hear."

"And what is it you think I want to hear?" Damen teased.

"I'm moving to Ios, aren't I?" Laurent quipped. "It certainly isn't for its hot beaches and plentiful thunderstorms."

Damen felt his face brighten at the implication—Laurent was moving to Ios for Damen. Laurent's smirk, however, didn’t match Damen's thoughts, and Damen's face fell when he realized why.

"You're going to say it's for my cock, isn't it?" Damen deadpanned, channeling the mannerisms typical of his lover.

Laurent looked impish as he ate what was practically just honey. "Don't discredit the role your biceps had in my decision."

Damen tried to glare at him, but it held no heat. His attempt at being offended was failing, as Laurent knew it would, and instead he felt something rather like pride, and then admonished himself for it.

"You are ridiculous," Damen said fondly, and kissed Laurent sweetly, tasting the honey on his tongue. Somehow it was sweeter there. "Alright hurry, we have to leave for our first adventure soon."

"I have to at least finish my cup of coffee."

But Damen had noticed the amount of sugar and cream that had gone into his cup, and was hesitant to call what Laurent was drinking 'coffee.' It was more like coffee-flavored sugar milk.

-

It was a day of perfection, starting with a boat ride out to the reefs on a private yacht with Charls the renowned Veretian fisherman captaining. Having lived near water his entire life, Damen wasn't useless on boats, but he wanted to be able to spend every moment of the day with Laurent.

The first adventure of the morning was scuba diving along the shore. Damen ended up watching Laurent most of the time as he swam around the colorful, tropical fish with excitement and wonder. They were wearing appropriate gear, so they ended up exploring the reefs near the shore for hours, the water so clear and transparent you could see out for miles into the deep ocean. Every time they resurfaced, Laurent had a joyous expression on his face. As they moved further out from shore, they even eventually ran into a sea turtle, who swam slowly around Laurent. Laurent watched its every move, in awe.

When they resurfaced and moved back on the yacht to towel off, Charls the renowned Veretian fisherman had caught and prepared their lunch. Laurent at first seemed hesitant to eat a fish he'd potentially just swam with, but after his first bite, stopped complaining.

After lunch, it was lazy sailing along the Isthima coast as Damen brought out some of the finest Akielon wine. They sat under the shade of the boat, curled up together on cushions along the edge, Laurent resting against Damen's chest, enjoying the view.

"You know this is wasted on me, right?" Laurent said, raising what was still his first glass of the wine. He'd drank about half.

Damen was on his fourth, so he said, "Not on me."

They ended up falling asleep, their wine glasses off to the side. Laurent nuzzled in close, not even pretending to try and stay awake, and the last thought Damen had before he drifted off himself was how nice it was to have Laurent fit so perfectly in his arms.

Charls woke them gently some time later, still in the early afternoon, because he had spotted dolphins near the boat. Damen couldn't have planned it better—even Laurent for all his meticulousness couldn’t have planned it better, not having control over the movements of dolphins. Damen finished the bottle of wine while Laurent made remarks about the high alcohol tolerance of Akielons, and they watched the group of dolphins swim and jump around them.

It was after the dolphins moved on and their yacht kept moving that Laurent figured out their destination.

"You're taking me to Mount Theros?" Laurent said, his mouth slightly turned up.

"I thought we'd hike up, watch the sunset from the peak." Damen said, attempting casualness. He looked over to watch Laurent's face. "There's a great trail that runs up it."

It was Laurent who said, as they stepped off the boat, "You have a glass jar, right?" Damen felt a smile crawl along his face that matched his mood, and replied in the affirmative.

Damen had undergone a tremendous amount of paperwork to ensure their privacy; there were no other couples at the site.

As they started their climb up the active volcano to the safest peak, Damen found himself recounting the story he'd heard multiple times since he was a child. In ancient Akielos, long before Isthima was part of the country, there were two female lovers. These two lovers, Anais and Nysa, had been childhood friends, but as they grew older, fell in love. It was a secret, forbidden love, because their aristocratic families had each promised their beautiful daughters to highborn Akielon men. Forlorn in their tragedy, they would supposedly meet every night on the high cliffs of Ios, and look out over the Gulf of Atros to admire the beautiful mountain on Isthima with its single peak, and the freedom it represented to them. According to legend, Nysa, on the night before her wedding to a cruel stranger, escaped to the docks with Anais, stole a boat in the heart of night, and sailed to Isthima. On their hike up Mount Theros, the volcano erupted, and they died, still locked in each other's embrace.

As the story goes, the mountain consumed their love and grew the second peak on Mount Theros, responding so strongly to the lovers' devotion. Couples from all around the world hike up to the wide valley between the peaks, supposedly the place where Nysa and Anais are locked in eternal embrace, in memory of the doomed lovers. Traditions blossomed from this legend, and modern day lovers put volcanic ash into glass jars and carry it down the mountain, to symbolize their own eternal love. Through this ritual, it is said, the love of Anais and Nysa is immortalized in all the couples who carry a part of them away.

Damen grew up hearing this story and had envisioned this moment his entire life. Damen wasn't sure Laurent knew, but this act was practically an unspoken vow, in all intents and purposes a marriage proposal. This tradition was sacred.

Suddenly, Damen felt the rising urge to make sure Laurent knew. He turned to him sharply, and opened his mouth to explain, but Laurent shook his head. "Damen, I know," he said simply, and then crouched down.

Under the weight of the moment, Damen couldn't quite stop his hand from shaking as he knelt and scooped ash into his hand, placing it into the glass jar Laurent was holding. Laurent's hand was steady and sure as he did the same. Damen stoppered the bottle, and handed it to Laurent.

"Bring it back when you return to Ios?" Damen said. His voice was quiet, reverent.

Laurent, despite the outward appearance of calm, held his hands out hesitantly, as if feeling overwhelmed by the moment as well. "Of course," he said. He took the bottle and closed his fingers around the glass carefully.

Afterwards, they continued hiking until they reached the top of the highest peak. Quietly, they looked out over the island toward the mainland where the vibrant and bright city of Ios shone. The sun was setting behind them, and they turned to watch the gradient of changing colors as the sky slowly turned from orange, to pink, then purple, and finally settling into a dark blue. They looked up and could see the endless night sky, millions of stars twinkling above them. Not even the lights of the distant Ios, or the closer towns along the Isthima coast could pollute their view.

Damen felt a heaviness settle over him just as Laurent took his hand. He was powerless in the weight of the moment to do anything but squeeze back, paralyzed from all the grandiose acts he suddenly wanted to do. He felt like he could conquer all four kingdoms with this feeling, and gift them to Laurent as proof of his love, strike down with a single sword a thousand armed men who wanted to do his lover harm, and steal all the stars in the sky so Laurent could bask in their brilliance at his leisure. This feeling was as terrifying as it was exhilarating.

As Damen gazed into the eyes of Laurent, he could say nothing, but was certain his feelings were understood. Laurent's face had pinked, and his expression had a quality of uncharacteristic shyness to it.

"Come," Laurent said, turning from Damen’s gaze. "It's time for us go."

They had a quiet dinner on the yacht as it sailed back to their private dock, in which then and there, Damen made up his mind. Once they returned to the darkened beach house, Laurent carefully placed the glass jar on his bedside table. He then moved towards the bathroom, probably to ready for bed, but Damen stopped him with a gentle touch to his side.

"Damen, I'm not certain I can take much more," Laurent said, referring to the surmounting emotion, almost palpable in the quiet of the night.

Damen knew how he felt, but still said, "I want you to take me tonight."

Laurent looked at him, startled, not having anticipated those words. Laurent licked his lips as a nervous gesture. Then, seemingly resolved, stepped close to him and kissed him, the kiss searing. Damen immediately leaned into it, and determinately held himself back from taking control. Laurent responded to Damen's passivity, curling his fingers tightly into Damen's hair, and tonguing his way inside Damen's mouth.

"Are you sure?" Laurent asked. "You've thought about this more than just the past hour?"

"I've thought about it for months," Damen admitted. "I’m sure."

"Then undress," Laurent commanded softly, "and lay on the bed on your stomach."

Damen did as ordered, and went to carefully spread himself on the bed, willing himself to stay calm and relaxed. When he turned his head to look back towards Laurent, he was standing nude in the dark room, shining in the moonlight's glow, his blonde hair resting over his shoulder. He was achingly beautiful.

"Laurent," Damen called out to him, inviting.

"Damen," Laurent answered, coming to him.

Laurent climbed onto the bed, his knees bracing either side of Damen, his cock resting softly along Damen's back. He slowly lowered and aligned himself against Daman. Damen closed his eyes and felt every inch of where their skin was touching. He soaked in the warmth of his lover's body, leaned into his touches along his side, and accustomed himself to his new role. Damen hadn't even noticed when Laurent had gotten out the lube, but suddenly Laurent was sitting up, and there was a single digit between his cheeks, pressing against him, not entering but slowly rubbing against his entrance.

Damen had tensed at the initial first touch, but Laurent was gentle and undemanding, a soothing hand rubbing his back. Slowly, Damen relaxed. He reminded himself that this was Laurent; he loved Laurent, wanted to spend the rest of his life with Laurent, and he wanted to do this with, and for Laurent, and Laurent would never hurt him, or make him do anything he didn't want. As his mind eased, his body began reacting positively to the lone digit, and Damen felt his body wanting what it had never wanted before, what it had never had the opportunity to want before.

Laurent leaned over to whisper softly in Damen's ear, his hair silky as it laid against Damen's back. "Promise me," Laurent said, a fierceness present in the words. "Promise me you will tell me if at any point you want me to stop."

Damen turned his head in his arms and met Laurent's eyes. Damen could intimately feel where Laurent was touching him, allowed the feeling to come over him, embracing it. Laurent would go no further until he had been given explicit permission, and Damen was further eased, made more excited about the impending act in the face of his lover's considerate care.

"I promise," Damen answered, his voice low, already affected by so little.

At his words, Laurent began pressing gentle kisses along Damen's neck, and Damen sighed into them. Then Laurent's finger wasn't just teasing, but entering him, slowly.

Instinctively, Damen's body clenched around him, and Laurent immediately stopped.

"Damen," Laurent said, a slight warning in his tone.

Damen shook his head, frustration building. It was his body's natural response to a new invasion, but Laurent's tone seemed to suggest something more sinister. Damen needed Laurent to understand that this was new, but not unwanted.

"I want this," Damen said, his voice harder than he intended, trying to articulate his desires as firmly as possible. But it was the wrong thing to say, his rough voice breaking the quiet tranquility of the previous moments.

It had the opposite effect Damen wanted. Laurent withdrew entirely, until Damen's body felt cold in his absence. "Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?" Laurent asked, his voice strained.

Damen groaned, and turned until he was sitting across from Laurent, whose face was devoid of outward emotion. "Trust me," he implored. "Please. I would not lie to you about this."

These were new roles for them, and Damen understood Laurent was in just as unfamiliar territory as Damen was, and they needed to be patient with each other. Perhaps this was too soon; it had been just yesterday that Damen broached the subject for the first time, after all, although Laurent had said he'd thought of it too. Laurent, on the other hand, plans for everything, and his first time had followed a natural progression. In contrast, this seemed abrupt and ill-timed. Damen looked at the glass jar, and wondered if Laurent trusted him, or thought Damen was only playing pretend at the desire to make Laurent happy.     

"Damen," Laurent said, his voice breaking slightly. Damen looked up at him in alarm, his thoughts interrupted. Laurent had caught sight of Damen's gaze, and he looked stricken, almost fearful. "Damen, do you have any idea what it would do to me if you gave me this because you thought _I_ wanted it, and not because _you_ wanted it? You don't owe me anything, for any reason."

"I know that!" Damen said hurriedly, wanting to make this point clear, even if nothing was coming across that way. As Damen attempted to gather his thoughts, he saw Laurent closing off and withdrawing. Damen scrambled to fix this, before it became such an awkward experience that they never spoke of it again.

"Laurent," he said, grabbing his lover's hand to anchor them both to the conversation. This was too convoluted for bed play, but Damen made himself say the words. "The truth is, we should have done this by now." Laurent raised his head sharply, those words clearly unexpected. "There was no reason for us to wait for you to take me, except I was selfish in only recently having thought of it at all. I've never done this before, and neither have you, but I want this. And I want to do it with you." Damen tightened his hold on Laurent's hands, a smile growing on his face. Damen took a moment to curl a wayward strand of Laurent's hair back behind his ear, and his thumb stroked the side of Laurent's cheek. "If at any point that changes, trust that I will tell you."

In the moonlight, Damen could see Laurent's face had completely softened, no longer panicked. "I didn't mean to suggest you were only doing this for my sake." 

They smiled at each other for a few seconds, then Damen leaned forward to kiss him. It was sweet, and belied the desire thrumming through Damen's veins at the touch.

"Fuck me," Damen said against soft lips. Damen felt a quick inhale, and then slender fingers in his hair, holding him in place as Laurent took control of their kiss and licked his way into Damen's mouth. Damen opened for him eagerly, let Laurent guide their kisses, as he closed his eyes and lost himself to the sensation. Laurent leaned forward until Damen was resting on his back, Laurent on top.

Slowly, deliberately, Damen opened his legs until Laurent was laying between them. Damen could feel Laurent's soft cock resting against his stomach, could feel it beginning to swell and twitch, and felt himself respond in kind. Laurent stayed on top of Damen as he began his teasing again, and this time when Damen's body clenched around Laurent's finger, Laurent kissed him through it until Damen relaxed. Laurent looked steadily at Damen as he moved his finger around, so when Laurent hit a spot inside of him that made him see stars, Damen could also see Laurent's triumphant expression. Damen said, "Another," before he even recognized that his mouth was open, and wasn't sure he meant another strike to that spot, or another finger.

Laurent responded with adding a second finger and using both to hit that spot again, as Damen closed his eyes so as to have no other distractions to the burn as the two fingers stretched him. Damen groaned and spread his legs wider. It felt good, Damen thought. It felt really good, and that knowledge itself was euphoric. Laurent kissed his smile as he added a third finger, and soon Laurent was fucking into him, Damen's body moving in tandem to meet them, wanting more, wanting it to never stop.

"You look incredible," Laurent said, "taking my fingers. You really do like it."

Blindly, Damen reached to pull Laurent to him, kissing into his mouth as he breathed heavily through his pleasure. "It feels so good," Damen said, not even recognizing his voice. "You feel so good, Laurent."

Damen's cock, which had waned through their conversation and the initial preparation, was hardening, and Laurent, his fingers still moving steadily in and out of Damen, slid down Damen's body to lick along the underside of his cock. Damen gasped and moaned at the dual sensations, grasping the sheets to resist from tangling his hand in Laurent's hair and pulling ungratefully. Laurent took the tip into his mouth and began sucking gently, the movement of his fingers growing sharper, faster.

"Laurent," Damen said, his voice shaking. "Laurent, I'm ready. Please. I want you. I want—"

Laurent didn't stop the ministrations of his fingers and he didn't back away from Damen's fully hardened cock. Instead, he caught Damen's eyes and sucked until his cheeks hollowed at the same time he pushed his fingers in, in a rather deep thrust.

"Laurent," Damen whined. The intense, hot pleasure was building, but he didn't want to come like this.

Laurent pulled off to say, "I want you to say it," before immediately returning to sucking along Damen's length.

"I want you," Damen groaned, arching his body, simultaneously wanting Laurent to fuck him and also never stop sucking his cock.

Laurent chuckled, and sent tiny licks along his hardened flesh, his fingers reaching into Damen's most intimate, pleasurable spots. "What else do you want?" he asked sweetly.

Damen leaned on his elbows to look at Laurent squarely, feeling himself redden preemptively. "I want to come on your cock. I want you to fuck me. Please. Laurent."

Still, it took a few more excruciating moments before Laurent drew away, both his mouth and his fingers. Damen groaned at the loss and felt his opening clench for something better, fuller, to fill him. Then it wasn't slender fingers teasing his rim, but the blunt, hard tip of Laurent's encased cock. Damen widened his legs even more, arching into him, eager and anticipating, waiting for the first push and breach.

"You're sure?" Laurent asked, one more time.

"Haven't you teased me enough?" Damen asked, in lieu of an answer.

Laurent breathed out a quiet laugh, still only rubbing his cock against Damen's entrance, driving Damen out of his mind, as if Damen's desperation was what Laurent needed to be fully convinced he truly wanted it, as if Damen wasn't already maddened with desire.

Damen growled and pushed into the teasing, and Laurent's cock slipped to grind against him. In response, Laurent lightly slapped the side of Damen's ass, then gently rubbed it in apology.

"Are you waiting to hear me beg?" Damen was embarrassed to note his voice was pleading, instead of demanding, embarrassed with the sudden knowledge that if Laurent said yes, he'd do it, embarrassed that he felt his cock twitch at the thought, suddenly wanting it.

But Laurent pressed in close again. "No," he said. "I was trying to buy myself some time. You have no idea how good you look like this, spread out before me."

And then the tip of Laurent's cock was entering him, pushing past the initial resistance, slowly filling Damen as Damen's body opened to receive him. As he expected, Laurent's cock was bigger than his fingers, and it burned a little, but even that, too, had its place in Damen's pleasure. Laurent stilled as he bottomed out, and Damen took a quiet moment to appreciate Laurent's body as a warm anchor, rooting him in the moment, the feel of his body stretched, the fullness he felt, and the ache, the burn, low in his stomach.

Damen heard himself breathing heavily, and he squirmed to try and achieve friction and movement. The longer Laurent remained unmoving, the more the hot urge grew, and the more desperate he became, his skin prickling with unfulfilled pleasure.

Answering his unspoken plea, Laurent moved a hand to Damen's chest to balance himself, and slowly began moving in shallow, rhythmic thrusts. Damen gasped at the feeling of being fucked into, at how good it felt on a basic primal level. His hand curled around the bed frame behind him, and he began pushing back, meeting Laurent's thrusts, making them deeper, longer. Soon Laurent was pressed as close as he could be to Damen in their current position, his fingers spread on the bed between Damen's head, and still it wasn’t enough.

"Harder," Damen said, unthinking, unworried, motivated only by this pleasure. "Fuck—fuck, Laurent, harder. Please."

In response, Laurent leaned up and his hands went to spread Damen's thighs wider, and Damen had a distant worry for cramps, but Laurent's resulting thrusts were coming faster, and harder, and deeper than before, and the concern quickly left Damen’s mind. Damen felt a much different type of pressure and tension build in him, and knew he was close, knew he was going to come with Laurent inside of him, splitting him open.

"Damen," Laurent said helplessly, and Damen arched into him, meeting, milking these last few moments of intense feeling. They moaned at the change in angle, and Laurent's thrusts became sporadic, losing his rhythm. Damen finally took stock in the open expression of pleasure gracing Laurent's features, his eyes lidded, focused on Damen, and his lips parted as he gasped.  

Damen took himself in hand, and Laurent immediately added his own. Between them, the mounting pleasure of Laurent's cock still rocking into him, and Laurent's own face, betraying the true bliss he felt despite his natural quietness, Damen was sent over. With a shout, Damen came all over his stomach and their joined hands.

As if waiting for Damen's cue, Laurent's face shuttered, and he followed Damen into his release with a loud cry of "Damen."

-

Damen was having a vague dream about boating on the ocean, the water turning into lava as he then traversed down into a volcano, when he was shaken awake. His eyes snapped open and he quickly sat up. Through the still dark room, he saw that Laurent was moving to get dressed and beginning to pack things into his bag.

"There's something wrong with Jokaste; they're inducing early. We need to head to the Summer Palace," Laurent said, urgency and tightly controlled emotion underlying his words.

Like an arrow, before the words had even all fallen from Laurent's mouth, Damen shot out of bed and began dressing as well, rather haphazardly through the haze of sleepiness. "How do you know?" he asked Laurent. He noticed the alarm clock on the bedside table. "What were you doing up? It's six in the morning."

"I was watching the sunrise, when your phone went off." Laurent was speaking from the bathroom, shoving in bottles and toothbrushes. "I ignored it, but then it rang again, and it was Kastor, so I answered. A plane will be at the hangar to take us there in about thirty minutes."

As Laurent drove them to the hangar in Damen's truck, Damen tried calling Kastor, and then his father, and then even Jokaste, but nobody picked up. The heaviness that had settled over Damen since he woke got worse, and the pilot had been unable to answer of their questions. The quick plane ride over to the Summer Palace was quiet, the anxiety tangible.

Just as they landed, Damen's phone went off.

"Kastor," Damen answered immediately. Laurent's head swerved sharply from looking solemnly out the window over to him. "Is everything—"

"Everything is fine," Kastor said over the phone, the relief in his voice audible. "A boy, a little underweight, but healthy regardless. The doctor predicts an excellent prognosis."

Damen gave a sigh of relief, the feeling contagious. "That's great to hear! Congratulations, brother."

"And Jokaste?" Laurent asked softly, leaning over to listen.

"And Jokaste is fine, right?" Damen asked Kastor.

"Yes," Kastor replied. "She did great. She knew something didn't feel right, and we immediately called a doctor over, and—I'm so grateful, they're both okay. I was so scared, but—but everything and everyone is fine. "

Damen felt a swell of brotherly affection as he grabbed his bags and began disembarking from the small plane. "We've landed, we'll be there soon."

"'We'?" Kastor asked.

"Laurent is with me," Damen said, with a glance to the person in question.

"Oh. I thought he would have stayed in Isthima."

"Why would he do that?"

Laurent was looking at him with a furrow in his brows, probably wondering why he was the topic of conversation.

"Never mind," Kastor said. "It doesn't matter. Nothing matters except that I am a father!" His voice edged on genuine excitement that Damen hadn’t heard from his brother in years. 

A member from his father's security team was waiting for them at the small, private airport near the Summer Palace, and it was just a quick drive over. Jokaste had supposedly chosen this place to give birth for its isolated privacy. It was a gorgeous palace; if Jokaste hadn't decided to hole up here, Damen would have taken Laurent here for their vacation, although Isthima was hardly a poor second choice.

They arrived at the palace with little fanfare and little opportunity to marvel at its simplistic and natural beauty. Damen did look wistfully around and imagined showing Laurent around later, but for now they followed the directions from the palace staff to Jokaste’s quarters, a suite on a bottom floor that was as opulent as it was spacious, arranged by the doctors and nurses. Her child was the grandson of the Exalted, and no expense was spared to make the mother comfortable for the birth.

The first thing Damen saw when he entered was his father, looking down at the small newborn in Jokaste's arms, glowing with barely contained pride. Jokaste herself, laying in the spacious bed with fresh, clean sheets, looked tired but relieved, dark circles under her eyes but no less beautiful, despite her hair undone and her face bare. Kastor was seated next to her in a chair by the bed, looking at his son like he'd never stop. His normally coiffed dark hair was a mess, no doubt Kastor having paced and tugged at it—a habit he never broke from childhood. He and Jokaste were holding hands.

Damen hesitated upon passing the threshold—a traitorous thought whispered that he would be interrupting this touching moment and he was no more than an intruder. Damen’s steps faltered but Laurent strode immediately into the room and took a standing position next to Theomedes. Theomedes jerked at the forwardness, and looked as if he were going to say something, say multiple things, in fact, now that the other members of the Veretian royal family weren't present. Laurent simply nodded and gave a quiet greeting, respectful of the reverent mood that overlaid the room.

Damen was ready to intervene, even if that meant bodily interjecting himself between Laurent and his father, but whatever rude words his father intended died in his mouth when Jokaste smiled up at Laurent. In fact, Jokaste gently moved the tiny infant in her arms to her other side, and traded Kastor's hand for Laurent's, who took it and curled their fingers together.

Damen met the eyes of his brother, and he saw the same, bemused expression that he imagined was on his face. When exactly had this happened? Theomedes seemed equally baffled at how effortlessly Laurent had situated himself by Jokaste's side, and how he'd been received.

"Would you like to hold your nephew, Laurent?" Jokaste asked, smiling too sweetly to be wholly innocent. Damen saw Laurent give her a critical look. "You did help name him, after all."

At that confession, Theomedes gave a bodily jerk and made a disgruntled noise that nobody but his sons paid attention to. Jokaste shifted to sit higher on the bed, and Kastor instinctively moved to help her, although his face still had a look of shock at what was transpiring.

"Jokaste," Kastor complained, "you told me you picked out the name—"

Jokaste sent a look to Kastor, and he immediately shut his mouth.

Laurent ignored Kastor and easily took the tiny infant into his arms with practiced ease. Damen slowly walked into the room to stand by his father, taking the place of Laurent, his eyes wide.

Kastor, mumbling slightly under his breath, got up from the chair, and offered it to Laurent, who took it without a glace towards him, eyes focused on the newborn sleeping in his arms. Kastor approached Damen and their father, gesturing to the blondes, mouthing, "What is happening?" Damen felt himself shrug helplessly.

"What name did you choose?" Laurent asked Jokaste, even though his eyes stayed glued to the sleeping babe.

Damen stood with his father and brother as the three of them watched the scene unravel before them. Damen got the distinct impression they were being deliberately ignored. It was beyond strange to see his lover interact so comfortably with his ex-girlfriend, a woman that Laurent shared an uncanny amount of characteristics with, the least of which was both having slept with Damen.

—That was probably inappropriate to have thought. Damen glanced over at Kastor, irrationally fearful his brother had suddenly developed telepathy.

"Philippe," Jokaste answered, and she, too, was looking at the infant, her eyes soft and artless. That was also strange to see, in its own right.

Laurent hummed in approval. "A strong Akielon name; good choice. In that case, I'm informing you now I shall be in charge of gifting him with his first horse, as soon as he's old enough to ride," Laurent said. He glanced up to meet Kastor's eyes as well, declaring his intentions to both of them. Kastor was too startled at having been addressed by Laurent directly for likely the first time to respond. Laurent didn't comment on it.

There was a moment of silence as all of them just looked at the infant wrapped in a dark red blanket, his eyes closed and sleeping soundly. Seeing Laurent hold the baby so naturally, like it was an extension of himself, was doing strange things to Damen that he didn’t want to critically analyze, for fear of wanting something that was impossible. He tamped down the ache growing in his heart, and instead noticed the softness in Laurent's gaze, how he had messily tied back his hair from his face, his steady hand holding the baby, and how he seemed utterly at ease around Damen's family, holding a newborn infant.

"He's beautiful, Jokaste," Laurent said, finally looking up to meet her eyes. "We'll hope he favors his mother in looks."

Jokaste's eyes flashed wickedly, countering the wistful tone of her voice. "Oh, dear. What _would_ a blonde Prince of Akielos look like?"

Laurent looked at Jokaste sharply. "How did you find out?"

Jokaste actually leaned back in shock at Laurent's answer, a grin cutting across her features. "I didn’t. Until now."

Laurent opened his mouth, but drew up short, a rare moment. He seemed a bit in shock. "Well done," he finally said.

Damen was clueless as to what they were talking about, and he could tell Kastor and Theomedes were just as confused. Theomedes opened his mouth, disgruntled at being both ignored and baffled, but Jokaste's laugh cut him off.

"You've much to learn," she said, to which Laurent responded with an unamused expression. "Good thing you're going to the University of Ios law school, hm?"

"Is that where you learned to be so clever?" Laurent quipped. "Kastor begs to differ."

This time, Theomedes edged in before Jokaste could continue their conversation. "What are the two of you talking about?" he demanded, his voice naturally rough.

Jokaste's face turned sweet as she faced Theomedes. "Damen took Laurent to Mount Theros."

All eyes turned to Damen, and Damen could feel the heat of his father's anger directed at him.  Laurent leaned back in his seat. Damen looked at him, pleading for help, but Laurent just shrugged.

"Yes," Laurent said when he felt Damen had suffered enough, cutting into the silence and allowing Damen to breathe as the attention diverted from him. "It offers a beautiful view of the palace at Ios." His eyes cut to Jokaste, as if he couldn’t help himself. "Perhaps one day you'll see." Laurent gave a sweet smile, leaning forward to pat Jokaste's hand as it rested on the bed.

Jokaste jerked her hand back and glared at Laurent's smirk. "It is rather difficult to climb mountains when you're pregnant, not that you'll ever know."

Damen couldn’t imagine through their talk how they'd managed to construct a friendship. They looked ready to hit each other—or, Jokaste looked ready slap her hand across Laurent's cheek, and may have if not for the fact that Laurent was holding her child.

Laurent just laughed, unfazed, and then said with deliberate casualness, "I'll tell you what I told Auguste. You can have all the heirs you want, I'll be content reading my books."

Damen froze, and felt his father and brother do the same. While Damen had never broached the subject with either of them, it seemed as if Laurent had already been thinking of it. Laurent, mixed with Jokaste, was like a dangerous tornado, ripping through the indelicate topics Damen had been fervently ignoring for months.

"You throw that around too easily," Jokaste said, her voice dangerously low, a warning.

Laurent contradicted, "On the contrary. It is what we're all thinking." At those words, he faced the three other men in the room, daring them to deny his words. Damen desperately wanted to see his father's face, and saw that he was looking at Laurent shrewdly. Laurent stared unblinkingly back.

Kastor broke the silence, saying, "Are we talking about this now? We can discuss this now." Of course he would.

"Quiet!" Theomedes barked, gaining back control of the conversation. "Nothing can be made official until—" He cut himself off, as if the concluding words were too sour. His father didn't want to finish his thoughts because he was still holding out on the possibility that Damen would end his relationship with Laurent, settle down with a suitable Akielon woman, and bear heirs of his own.

So Damen finished his father's thoughts for him. "Nothing will be made official until Laurent and I wed. Then we'll name Philippe as our heir." Damen turned his gaze to Kastor, sealing the promise of his words. Theomedes looked like there was a repugnant smell under his nose. Then Damen caught Laurent's gaze across the room, and found a heart-warming smile awaiting him.

"Would you like to hold him, Damen?" Laurent asked. "You did just name as your unofficial heir."

"No, I couldn't," Damen stammered, but found himself, like under a spell, taking the necessary steps until he was standing next to Laurent's chair. "He looks so fragile, one wrong move, and I'd break him."

Still, Laurent stood up carefully and Damen replaced him on the cushioned seat, and then Damen was awkwardly holding a tiny infant. His arms were stiff, not wanting to move them at all from how Laurent had instructed him. He was taking steady breaths, trying not to move too much in case Philippe woke up. Finally, though, he looked down at his nephew and instantly, like a lightning strike, felt an irrational love for this child, and knew he'd do whatever he needed to protect and support him.

"Hello, Philippe," Damen said, a wide smile coming over his face. _Welcome to the world._

 -

After a few more minutes with the babe, Damen and Laurent left the room, and Theomedes followed them out, giving Kastor and Jokaste time alone with their son. Damen immediately tensed, wondering if his father was going to say something inappropriate now that they were alone, but he walked silently off to another part of the castle.

Damen watched him round the corner, but Laurent snapped him out of his reprieve. "Show me around the palace?"

"You meant what you said?" Damen asked instead, looking at him squarely. "About Philippe?"

Laurent looked mildly insulted. "Of course," he said plainly. "Am I known to say things I don't mean? I am fully cognizant of the significance behind Mount Theros, although you're not off the hook for officially asking."

Damen took Laurent's hand, which he had crossed over his chest, and kissed his knuckles. "Yes, Your Highness," he said, with a nod of his head.

Laurent drew his hand back in mock protest, but was fighting the corners of his lips to suppress his satisfaction. "Are you going to show me around this castle, or shall I ask a staff member to do the honors?"

Damen showed him around the castle. First, he took Laurent to the palace library, which turned out to be a mistake, because Laurent didn't seem inclined to leave once he entered it. It _was_ a beautiful library, taking up two stories with open staircases and large windows that overlooked the gardens to the west, and the ocean to the east. It was nothing like the libraries in the Arles palace, Damen thought, which were outfitted in dark woods and paneling, murals painted along the ceiling and walls. This library mirrored the one in Ios, with simplistic, soft pastels, and busts of past Queens and Kings of Akielos lining the edges and bookshelves. They weren't as impressive as the life-size statues at Kingsmeet, Damen thought.

Laurent had been immediately drawn in, and after a few minutes where Damen lost him, he found him standing in front of the bust of King Alexios, who had been killed in his early twenties, having only served as King for a few short years. He was most famous for his letter to the King of Vere who had been his secret lover and the one to end his life in battle. Damen remembered analyzing the letter during grade school in his literature class. He thought the story "too sappy," and couldn't remember much of the actual letter.

Laurent had raised his hand and was slowly touching the features of the bust. "He looks like you," Laurent remarked. Damen shrugged and thought about how far back Alexios would be in his family tree. It was pretty far. 

"I loved this story when I was a child," Laurent said. It sounded to Damen that he was still enamored by the forbidden love story. "You know there's a portrait of King Amaury in the palace at Arles?"

Damen's eyebrows creased. "Is that his name?"

Laurent shot an unimpressed look behind him. "This is the most tragic love story in the history of our nations."

"I much prefer happier stories." Damen shot him a winning grin. "Like ours."

Laurent rolled his eyes, and turned back to gaze at King Alexios again, thinking aloud, "Their story has only gotten more interesting to me. We could have been like them, you know. If our nations were still enemies. How many loves fell to ruin because of pointless prejudice?"

Damen personally thought that question was a useless one, as there was no way to rectify the past, therefore there was little point in thinking about it. But he did know one thing for certain. "Even if we had lived back then, that never would have been us. We would have found a way to make it work." Laurent's face showed how unrealistic he thought Damen's words, but Damen pressed on. "No, I'm serious. I'd have reunited the kingdoms before I met you on opposite sides of the battlefield.

"We'd have found a way to have a kingdom _and_ this," Damen finished, having remembered a famous line from the letter, and playing off of it.

It worked, because Laurent blushed prettily. "Your confidence in us is reassuring."

They shared a quiet, loving kiss, before Laurent ran off to another corner of the library, where he became focused on an old, large map that was hanging on the wall.

Later, Damen showed Laurent his mother's favorite room in the palace, a room with a beautiful grand piano in the center, a window dome overhead, and more open windows along the sides. Damen remembered his mother's slender fingers flying over the piano keys as he danced to the music she created, and then eagerly pressing his face to the windows during thunderstorms as his mother tried to get him to bed. This was Egeria's favorite palace, and was here more often than not in the last months of her life. In fact, there was a bust of her in the room, which Damen gravitated towards.

Laurent walked to the piano, drawn to it, and played a few keys, but when he noticed what had caught Damen's attention, he went to stand next to him. Laurent rested a hand on Damen's bicep.

"She would have liked you," Damen said, and knew the words to be true. "She liked to read, too. She found the good in everyone."

"You favor her in more than just appearance, then," Laurent commented with a smile, and then curled himself until he was standing beneath Damen's arm, against him, a hand on his back. "She would have been proud of you."

 _You mean, unlike my father_ , Damen thought, but didn't say. Instead, he said, "She'd have been upset at me, if she knew about the first time I'd tried to court you."

"It wasn't the right time for us," Laurent acknowledged diplomatically, then grinned mischievously. "You were an insensitive idiot who only wanted to sleep with me."

Damen kissed Laurent's head, and kept his face there. "I certainly wasn't expecting you."

The quiet moment was broken by Damen's phone going off; a text from his father that dinner would be served in the sitting room in the east wing.

When they arrived, Kastor and Theomedes were already seated, partaking in the food set out for them, large platters of spiced meats and vegetables.

"Did you have a nice tour around the castle?" Kastor asked them, somewhat awkwardly. A fault that was completely Damen's own, his family didn't know how to interact around Laurent yet.

"It's a beautiful palace," Laurent answered. Damen noticed Laurent also trying to carefully choose his words. "I particularly loved the library, and the impressive collection it contains."

The conversation fell off as Theomedes grunted and refused to look at them. Damen rather felt like hitting him for his obstinacy. 

Damen then asked about Jokaste, who was resting with Philippe. According to Kastor, the newborn had woken briefly while Damen and Laurent were walking through the myriad of hallways and rooms, and Kastor changed his first diaper, under strict orders from Jokaste that they'd be "co-parents, so get rid of any notions that you'll be a disengaged father." Kastor tried to laugh off her words in front of them, but Damen could see he was completely captivated by both his fiancé and his son, and would likely do anything Jokaste told him.

Kastor, in another attempt to bring Laurent into the conversation, questioned Laurent's ease with holding the newborn, and the table listened as Laurent told them about his experience volunteering at a local orphanage in Arles. He told the story with mirth dancing in his eyes, and it made Damen think there was more to the story than Laurent was letting on.

"There's only a few individuals who have figured out my real identity," Laurent said. "Of course the main administrative staff, but a few of the children who've grown up there over the years. A teenager far too smart for his own good, for example. I'm working on ensuring he applies to university soon, so he can use all that cleverness for some good."

"Do you think you'll continue volunteering when you move to Ios?" Kastor asked, genuinely interested, putting a bite of meat into his mouth. Although he hadn't said anything, Damen could see that his father was listening.

Laurent nodded. "I doubt I'll be able to conceal my identity again, but yes. I've already made contact with the main orphanage in Ios, about how best I can be put to work for the benefit of the children there."

Kastor seemed shocked but pleased to hear about Laurent's foresight and planning, although Damen, who was also hearing this for the first time, wasn't surprised. "You seem to care a lot about children," Kastor commented.

"Don't be too surprised," Laurent teased. "In all seriousness, I intend to use my law degree to push for legislation ensuring equal opportunities for all children."

Kastor looked impressed at Laurent's words, and sent a telling look to Damen. Theomedes remained immovable, but with every passing minute, looked more and more ridiculous with his crossed arms and disgruntled face. Damen couldn’t stop smiling at Laurent.

The conversation strayed towards domestic concerns, governors causing trouble, and legislators wanting to curry favor with royalty. Theomedes dominated the conversation, but every now and then slyly asked Laurent a question about Akielon politics, as if attempting to catch him up, but Laurent always had a ready answer that was both correct and helpful. Laurent eventually excused himself to take a phone call.

"He's not going anywhere," Damen said as soon as the door shut behind Laurent. "So please stop acting like this around him."

Theomedes tolerated that outburst from Damen, and turned to look at Kastor speculatively. "He's won even you over, hasn't he?"

Kastor shrugged. "Damen could do a lot worse. He obviously gets along with Jokaste, which…" He looked over at Damen, as if Damen had the answer to that mystery.

"I am just as shocked as you," Damen said, raising his hands.

Then, Kastor and Damen stared at each other with twinned panicked looks on their faces, having realized simultaneously the real danger of Jokaste and Laurent getting along. Jokaste and Laurent separately were bad enough, clever and mischievous as they were, but together…

Theomedes dropped his head into his hand in dismay for his sons, sighing loudly.

-

Over the next few days, the Akielon royal family informed their close friends and family of the birth, and soon a steady stream of flowers and gifts arrived to fill up the birthing room Jokaste and Philippe were still staying in. It was decided they'd wait a week before officially announcing Philippe's arrival, hopefully enough time for Jokaste to recover from what had been a difficult birth. Despite only a few people having been told, the flowers were starting to overwhelm the castle. The last time Damen had seen so many flowers was at Laurent's graduation, where it was traditional practice to gift the graduate with as many sorts of flowers as possible.

Damen, not knowing much about flowers, had gone simple and given Laurent a dozen, special-made, multi-colored roses, while the King and Queen had gifted him an orchid field in his name (and a bushel of orchids from said field). Auguste presented him with beautiful peach colored flowers, Aloisa brought bright daisies, and following normal decorum, even Senator Guion had sent purple and pink flowers. Royal families from the other nations also sent their congratulations to Laurent, including sunflowers from the Akielon royal family sent by, Damen knew, their public relations director, Pallas.

Jokaste had even more flowers in her room. Her room was starting to look like its own indoor garden. Damen fervently hoped Philippe wasn't allergic to any of the flora, although if he was, they'd all find out soon.

It was not, however, just flowers and gifts that streamed into the palace, but visitors as well. Damen and Laurent had gone back to Isthima briefly to retrieve their things, and Laurent informed his family he'd be staying a few extra days with Damen than he'd originally planned. He told them they'd find out why soon enough, and not to worry. They returned to the Summer Palace to see that many of Jokaste's friends from law school had stopped by, and some of Kastor's friends from the judicial court. Even Makedon, Commander of the Akielon Army and a family friend, was here, and Damen's phone told him Nikandros would be arriving within the hour.

Walking into the nursery, they saw Makedon, a burly, large man with board shoulders, leaning over where Philippe was looking up at him with wide eyes in his crib, to give the babe a soft, whiskery kiss on the top of his head. Jokaste wasn’t in the room, but Kastor nodded at Damen and Laurent's entrance, and it caught Makedon's attention, who turned to face them. Immediately, an easy, contagious grin spread over his face.

"Damen!" he exclaimed, walking over to clap him on the shoulder. "Congratulations on becoming an uncle. Can tell he'll be a feisty, curious one. No doubt he'll make an excellent sportsman like his father and uncle." He laughed openly.

Damen grinned back at him. Makedon was an easy one to like and get along with, as long as you didn't piss him off, and had been like an uncle to Damen. "Makedon, let me introduce you to—" Damen started, but was cut off.

Makedon had moved to give Laurent a manly slap on the back that Laurent gave no objections to and in fact seemed completely unsurprised by his reception, touching Makedon on the shoulder in return.

"Great to see you, too, Your Highness," Makedon said, bowing, but it seemed more like an inside joke between the two of them than a formal greeting. Damen could _slightly_ see how he missed a friendship developing between Laurent and Jokaste, but this was too far. Clearly Laurent was having him on, and had planned this ahead of time. "He's treating you well?" he asked with a sly look towards Damen. He hooked his arm around Damen's neck in a teasing stronghold. "I've still got a few moves, if he's not."

What was happening?

Laurent smiled graciously. "Thank you, Commander Makedon. He's the perfect gentlemen, I assure you."

Makedon laughed again, full-bellied as his laughter always was, letting go of Damen. Damen rubbed the back of his neck in protest. "Not like you'd need help setting him straight if he wasn't!"

Damen was completely bugging out. Next, he'd find out that Laurent had been in league with his father this entire time, and actually they got along great, were the best of friends, and braided each other's hair. Looking around the room, he could tell that Kastor didn't know about this prior connection, either.

"Wait," Damen said, interrupting Laurent and Makedon's conversation, which had now turned, somehow, to horse breeds. "What." It's all Damen could muster.

"Oh, right," Makedon said, laughing, "you were trying to introduce me to Laurent earlier. You don't pay attention much to events outside your world, do you, boy? I met Prince Laurent when he was but eight-years-old, attending his first Equestrian Games and showed up even the most experienced riders."

Laurent took the compliment gracefully. "I was good, for an eight-year-old. You, however, were invaluable to my brother and me, allowing us to escape our boring princely duties."

They laughed together in the shared memory, and Damen decided it wasn't worth protesting any further.   

When Nikandros arrived a short while later, Damen whispered to Laurent, "Tell me now. Do you already know Nikandros from some summer camp you both went to in Vask where you traded secrets about, I don't know—"

And in fact, Damen was having a hard time coming up with common interests between his best friend and his lover _._

Laurent shook his head in amusement. "Outside of politics, I have not had much opportunity to communicate with your friend Nikandros," Laurent said, "so feel free to introduce us without worry the rug will be swept from under you."

Damen grumbled. "You could have at least warned me about Makedon."

They saw Nikandros approaching them from the end of the hallway, and he was a sight for sore eyes. It had been far too long since Damen had seen his good friend. He waved at him, just as Laurent whispered, "It's not really Makedon you're upset about me knowing beforehand, though, is it?"

Damen gave him a quick glance to acknowledge his words, but then was wrapped in a tight hug with his best friend since childhood.

"Nikandros," Damen greeted. "Good to see you."

"Yes," Nikandros said, sighing in relief. "I needed this reprieve more than you could possibly imagine. I'll have to give Jokaste my thanks. It's been rough in Delpha as of late, especially for an Akielon leader." He then nodded to Laurent in greeting, holding out his hand. "Prince Laurent."

Laurent shook his hand. "Pleasure to meet you."

Nikandros acknowledged his words, and the three of them began walking towards the nursery. Damen opened his mouth to share that Laurent knew Makedon—who knew?—when Nikandros said, "It is nice to finally officially meet you." He was looking at Laurent. "Damen talks of nothing else when we speak."

Nikandros had initially expressed concern over Damen's relationship with Laurent, and was highly critical of him all through Damen's courtship. Damen was ready to navigate any rocky waters between them, but Nikandros said, "I have much to thank you for, actually, and I'm grateful for the opportunity to do so in person."

Damen took a deep breath and barely held himself back from glaring at Laurent. What had Laurent done now? He had only said to be informed if Laurent had met Nikandros prior to now, but apparently that wasn't good enough for his forward thinking lover. Damen began thinking of all the ways Laurent could have curried favor with Nikandros without meeting him, doing more of the dirty work that Damen himself should have been doing to pave the way for Laurent's acceptance into every facet of Damen's life. He was shocked when Nikandros' words revealed the truth of his gratitude towards Laurent, and they had nothing to do with him at all.

"Your consistent public opposition to Senator Guion has been invaluable to me," Nikandros implored, "not to mention your support on how the Delpha trial is progressing. It's frustrating to watch opposing camps build right before your eyes, when before there had been none." Nikandros looked at Laurent expectantly.

"You know I don't believe that," Laurent answered. Nikandros nodded as if expecting the opposition. "Camps have always been present since the unification of Delpha. Those identities have only, through the decades, become less and less salient to most. Senator Guion is only tapping into and exacerbating what had been previously deeply buried nationalistic loyalties." They paused outside Jokaste's rooms, not wanting to bring politics in with them. "Even you, Nikandros, born and raised and now co-leader of Delpha, are the _Akielon_ co-leader, not simply a Delphan leader. Would you not agree that you feel more Akielon than Delphan? Or, dare I say, Veretian?"

Nikandros gave a short laugh, having been beat. "Fair enough."

He didn't look like he was going to say more, so Damen interjected. "Delpha was an experiment," he said, "and a gamble, but a successful one that paid off. However divided the people are now, history has shown they don't need to be. Akielons and Veretians can live peacefully in unified territory, can learn two languages and hold dual citizenship in both Akielos and Vere, and develop a unique culture of their own."

Laurent nodded his head. "You won't find me disagreeing with any of that, but it's folly to ignore the truth of what's going on there, simply so we can hold grandiose ideas about how we wish things were."

Nikandros laughed. "I suppose you would know, wouldn't you?" Nikandros said derisively. "I read your senior thesis on the development of political identity in Delphan children. I didn't like it."

Laurent rolled his eyes. He agreed, "You wouldn’t. You didn't like that you found similarities to yourself and your own upbringing."

This time, Nikandros addressed Damen, his tone light but with a slight tinge of barely-there annoyance. "He doesn't soften his blows, does he?"

"No," Laurent said, answering for himself, "I don't," and then he walked into the nursery, effectively ending the conversation.

-

That night, Makedon brought out the _griva_ he had essentially smuggled into Akielos from Delpha, and declared that all the men needed to drink and be merry to celebrate the birth of a good Akielon son. Kastor immediately brightened, and even Nikandros seemed excited at the opportunity to drink and forget a few of the more stressful things going on in his life.

Theomedes had grinned at his friend, commented that it was an excellent idea, then made a side-note that perhaps the blondes should stay behind to look over the baby. Apparently, he wasn't aware of the relationships Laurent had been making around Theomedes’ circles. Damen bristled at the insult against Laurent, while Makedon was confused by Theomedes' comment, not aware of his friend's disapproval of Damen's partner. Laurent rolled his eyes, no longer annoyed, or surprised, by Damen's father's cutting words.

"An excellent idea," Laurent said. "I'd drink you under the table anyway, and that'd be terribly embarrassing for you, plus I'm sure you want to complain loudly about me, and that venture is made more awkward if the person in question is sitting amongst you. I'll sit with Jokaste and share with Philippe Veretian stories and customs."

Theomedes barked a laugh, and actually grinned at Laurent. "You'll do that anyway, I'm sure. But you just issued a challenge that I hope you are prepared to see through." As their group walked towards the West Gardens, Theomedes called over his shoulder, "And I'm still going to complain about you."

"Father," Damen snapped, but Laurent slipped his arm through Damen's and grinned at him, shaking his head. "Are you—are you _enjoying_ this?" People did get along in strange ways, Damen thought, and Laurent seemed to develop the strangest of relationships with people. When Laurent didn't answer, Damen warned, "I do feel the need to say, if you try to outdrink my father, you will die of alcohol poisoning before you even get close."

They reached the West Pavilion, where the night air was cool and the sound of the ocean breaking against the cliffs could be heard from a distance. They sat around a fire pit that Kastor promptly brought to life, and Makedon opened the first of many of his bottles, grabbing glasses from an outdoor bar area. Besides the natural light of the waning moon and the fire, the garden lights were on, illuminating the stone pathway.

"To Philippe!" Makedon cheered, and Nikandros was the first to clink his glass, before they all raised their glasses and took the shot of _griva_. From his periphery, Damen saw Laurent's eyes widen as he held back a gag. Makedon's homemade brew was not for the faint-hearted, and by Laurent's own admission, he didn't drink much.

"Too much for you, Prince Laurent?" Theomedes prodded across the fire. Damen hadn't been the only one to notice Laurent's reaction. "Can't handle a strong, Akielon drink?"

"It's absolute swill," Laurent agreed. Makedon laughed, not offended, and began refilling everyone's glass for a second shot, including Laurent's, who held his out pointedly. "I'm not to be blamed if my Veretian tastes are more refined than the simplistic palate of Akielons."

As expected, the Akielon men around the fire jeered playfully at the joking statement, making various comments about what they thought of Veretian tastes.

The second shot went down easier, and Laurent didn’t gag this time. He looked to Theomedes as if to say, _what about now_?

"You're a Veretian snake with a mind of a serpent," Theomedes declared, apropos to nothing. "Every move you make serves at least two purposes, and you've been trying to play me like you've played my son."

The cheerful mood evaporated in an instant. Everyone froze, even Makedon who had joyfully been refilling everyone's glasses once more.

"Now, Theo," Makedon started, at the same time Damen opened his mouth to say, "Father!" in frustration for the second time in thirty minutes. 

As usual, Laurent answered for himself. He actually looked as if he'd been waiting for Theomedes to openly voice his opposition this entire time. "I do not think,” Laurent interrupted, “you would enjoy the games I play with your son.”  

Everyone, including Theomedes froze. Damen felt his cheeks redden—Akielons simply did not discuss their bedtime activities—but Laurent’s face stayed calm and unfazed. After a moment, Theomedes laughed, harsh and loud in the night. "That was all part of your plan to ensnare him."

Damen opened his mouth, wanting to cut in and end this before it could really begin, but Laurent discretely held out his hand, signaling for him to stand down. Laurent leaned back into his chair and crossed his legs, looking for all the world like he was really enjoying this. "My plan," Laurent repeated.

"To control the Akielon Crown!"

Ignoring the insult that suggested against Damen, Laurent again repeated, with a dry voice, "To control the Akielon Crown?" Despite Theomedes's growing anger, Laurent was calm.

Theomedes spat out, downing another glass of _griva_ , "For your own enjoyment, to be King in all but title, to try and reunite Akielos with Vere under a Veretian banner, to bring ruin to Akielos; take your pick!"

As if soothing a petulant child, Laurent said, "To be King in all but title? Our monarchies are nothing _but_ titles now. Governance is through the people, and you should know that better than anyone, Exalted. As for the other accusations, I’m sure you can recognize how ridiculous those insinuations are." Theomedes looked as if he might rebuke but stayed quiet as Laurent continued. "What I think," he said steadily, "is that you've run out of reasons to object to me, and that's what infuriates you the most."

Silence met Laurent's words, and even Theomedes was stunned. They stared at one another.

Finally, Theomedes said, "You are still a snake."

"Then don’t take one to bed," Laurent said slyly, knowing how uncomfortable he was making the table. "Though I don’t think Damen has any objections."

The fire was crackling loudly, too loud in the stillness. Nobody yet had moved.

Theomedes then waved at Makedon, handing over his glass. "I remember you trying to outdrink me?" His face gave nothing away.

"You know I will lose, but you wanted to see if I would dare," Laurent remarked. "I figured I’d give you this win, but it seems you’re too Akielon to read between the lines.”

To everyone’s surprise Theomedes began chuckling, "You're not wrong there," and knocked his glass back. He stared at Laurent. "I think I'm now at five, to your two?"

Laurent took his refilled glass and took the shot without hesitation, raising only an elegant eyebrow. Theomedes answered with a grin. Everyone, including Damen, let out a loud, draw-out breath as, just like that, the tension dissolved and they went on drinking and merrily telling stories.

Damen didn't think he imagined it when, throughout the night, Theomedes sent approving glances Laurent's way, but that could have been joy at seeing Laurent become steadily, increasingly, completely drunk.

-

Later, Damen dropped Laurent off in their shared rooms with a trashcan by his side of the bed, and Kastor returned, not nearly as drunk after his nap, to look over Philippe while Jokaste slept. As Makedon and Nikandros stumbled their way to their own rooms, Theomedes took Damen aside.

Damen, for once, had drank far less than Laurent, if only to be sober enough to take care of Laurent when he suffered the inevitable consequences of challenging King Theomedes to a _griva_ competition. Damen's father, on the other hand, drank second only to Makedon himself, but seeing him now, nobody would guess he'd had even a drop.

Theomedes' face was like stone, his eyes hard, and Damen feared the worst. "Do not ever, even under pain of death, repeat what I am about to tell you." Damen nodded, sure his face expressed his confusion. "You could do far worse," Theomedes admitted.

Once his father's words sank in, Damen's face immediately lit up. His father made a disparaging sound at the sight, as if his confession, and Damen's resulting happiness, had cost him dearly. "Go look after him," his father said as he departed, "before he chokes on his own vomit. All his cleverness would have been for naught, and wouldn’t that be a real shame." His sarcasm was palpable, but Damen didn't have a care in the world.

He practically skipped back to their rooms, where Laurent laid just as he left him, passed out on the bed, drooling on a pillow.

Damen was still smiling uncontrollably the next morning as he held Laurent's hair back while he worshipped the porcelain makers.

"You did it," Damen declared. "You won my father's approval."

"Oh, good," Laurent mumbled, his head resting against the cool porcelain of the toilet. "I'm so glad." He retched again.

"What's next for you?" Damen asked, joking, meaning for the question to be rhetorical.

But Laurent answered, as if he was already thinking of the next game. "Next I win your country's approval." Then, after a deliberative pause, "That may need to include developing a higher tolerance to alcohol."

Damen laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> None of this would have been possible without [Sara](http://sarabelium.tumblr.com/), but especially this last chapter. This final chapter is the longest, had the most added scenes from the original draft, and the most scenes that had to be completely rewritten, some over and over. She took precious time out of her stressful schedule to help me craft this entire story, and is probably as sick of this story right now as I am. Sara, you're the best, and I love you, but this is all your fault, and I thank you.
> 
> So I hope you enjoyed this finally finished product! And [come say hi](http://americancupsofbritishtea.tumblr.com/) if you'd like!


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